The Orbiting Meteor
by IdreamofEddy
Summary: Three and half years after escaping from the mythological and heartbreaking world of Forks, Bella is moving on with her life. What happens when a mysterious stranger catapults her back into the world she so desperately wanted to leave behind? AU/OC/OOC.
1. Preface

The Orbiting Meteor

Preface

**A/N:**** Hi, if you've opened this story up, that means you're giving it another go or a try. Yay! **

**The Orbiting Meteor was inspired by Colliding Meteors, which is a Jasper/Bella story. This story was started in June of 2009. It was posted, pulled, posted, pulled, along with Colliding Meteors. It's been reworked many times over. It is incredibly long, and er, still not quite finished, but I'm giving it another go. Thanks for reading. I don't like AN's much so check the profile page for info as I'll most likely keep you updated from there where I am in the process. **

**This first chapter is preface material. The majority of this story however is 1st person material. I'll let you figure it out. **

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**April 10, 2009**

Bella Swan walked through the arched doorway of her light sienna Stamm home in Santa Fe, New Mexico. It was hers, bought and paid for by her mother, Renee. Bella was not having an entirely good day. Things better left in the past were on her mind. It's taken two and a half years of hard work and investment in building a new life for her to finally be able to find some peace and move on from the events in Forks that began almost four years ago. Bella's father, Charlie, had called and given her some news about Jake. Now she was determined to not have the whole day completely turn to shit.

Bella headed down the narrow stone path that ran through the small garden she had created the summer before. Her front yard was covered in desert rocks of all sizes. She had the perfect mix of mulch to keep moisture in for her buffalo grass, various spots of chasma, succulents, and the fragrant sumac she planted last fall. The sun was out, and a slight breeze was blowing in from the southwest. It wasn't the warmest of days, the temperature only reading sixty-five on the little garden gauge as she walked by, but the sun felt warm on her skin.

Bella walked to the mailbox in an oversize Santa Fe Community College sweatshirt. She had on a pair of black sweats that were cut off just below the knees, and she was wearing furry, light blue, flip-flop slippers. She was a little worse for wear in the middle of the afternoon, but she had just woken up. She opened the lid of the mailbox, not noticing her neighbor across the street watching her. Bella wasn't wearing a bra.

Mahogany brown hair flew around her face. Three years ago, when she unexpectedly left Forks, WA, she finally decided to cut it. Her hair had always been thick, and after becoming acclimated to the cold and wet weather of Forks, Santa Fe's weather in the summer made taking care of her hair more of a hindrance. Her tresses were now layered, the length shortened by six inches, hanging just below her breasts. Her hair was more vibrant now, and it accentuated her defined face even more. She'd liked the cut so well, she'd kept the same style ever since she'd had it done.

There was a man watching her from the small patch of trees that ran beside Bella's house. He wasn't human, but he also wasn't her enemy. In fact, he was far from it. He was watching her hair blow around her face, the healthy strands catching the sunlight, and he thought she glowed.

Bella's whole body seemed to go through a metamorphosis of sorts after her first six months of living in Santa Fe. She began to eat more - and eat healthier. She still indulged in cereal bars and Pop Tarts for breakfast, but once she began to cook again, she gained weight in all the right places. Bella was also a walker. At least four days a week she would do eight laps around a small pond, which equaled out to close to two miles. Her legs and arms were lean, strong, and toned. In every sense, she had become a young woman, and nothing about her was plain.

Bella pulled out the contents of her mailbox - the weekly circular with her Wal-Mart and grocery store ads, a cable bill, and a yellow envelope with the Hallmark symbol on the back. She pushed her hair back behind her ear and flipped it over. Of course it was addressed to her, but the return address was what she looked to immediately.

_J. Black_

_140 Main Street,_

_La Push, WA__ 98350_

At the same moment, a little, red Toyota Prius came barreling around the corner of her street, turning into Bella's driveway. It was Debbie, the closest friend Bella had in Santa Fe. The small woman stepped out with a hanger of clothes covered with white plastic.

During her first summer in Santa Fe, while she was working full-time as a clerk for an insurance company, Bella took a temporary part-time job that paid pretty well with a local warehouse - working in shipping and receiving. That was when they met.

Bella was trying to save up some money for her first year of community college, and Debbie was a workaholic. Debbie was thirty two, and Bella liked her immediately. Debbie wasn't nosy, but she could tell that Bella had been through some difficult times. It showed in Bella's eyes and face, and Debbie was a good judge of character. Debbie was supportive of Bella without prying, and though some of their interests were different, they had a few things in common. Debbie was also not to be messed with, and drop dead gorgeous.

Debbie was the one who got Bella the job at Generations, she had worked at the club for over three years, and knew the bosses quite well. The insurance company that Bella worked for was laying off its employees, and not having any sort of seniority, Bella was on the hit list. She had been at Generations now for just over a year, and though Bella wasn't the cocktail waitress or bartender type, she actually loved it. It was a little rough when she first started working in the club, after a brief stint in the small restaurant also attached to the club. She had to learn how to deal with drunk people, and generally just talk to them in general. She also had to work through her clumsiness. Her bosses actually found it funny the first few times a tray of drinks or food would land on a guest, but after a while they became irritated with all the comps they were dishing out.

Tony - one of the owners - had her come in when they were closed a few times to practice carrying a fully loaded tray around an obstacle course, and after some time she learned the act of balancing and walking. Random acts of clumsiness were now rare. When she first started, she was a hit with Tony, and he was always hitting on her in the most interesting of ways. The handsome, Italian flirt was quite the ladies man, but he always found someone more fascinating. Tony and Vince both felt protective of her when they found out she had no family and not many friends in the Santa Fe area. They were very kind to her and worked with her schedule for school. And in turn, Bella worked hard, and she was there whenever they needed her to cover some hours. Bella also had a knack for bartending.

Generations was the number one hot-spot in Santa Fe and northern New Mexico. It was open everyday, closing only for major holidays that didn't fall on a weekend. Every night the music was different. It was a huge club that had used to be a small warehouse. It had a small restaurant and a sports bar for the sports fanatics, with eight big screens and several flat screens to cover every game and every sport.

Bella knew there was under-the-table betting in the establishment, but the lid was sealed tightly around it, and as long as it didn't involve her, she ignored it. She worked mainly in the nightclub. The small family eatery attached to the club served really great Italian food, and that was where she worked when she first started. There was a large dance floor and one main bar that was situated above the dance floor.

Bella only made $7.00 an hour, but on weekends, her take-home in tips would average out to around a hundred to a hundred and fifty a night. During the week, it was about half. She had every other weekend off, and she always worked the night shift from six to three. Bella would pick up extra hours occasionally for those who were sick or needed a day off, just as long as it didn't interfere with her school schedule. The fact was, Bella liked mostly everyone she worked with and she loved the job. It kept her busy along with school, and she liked keeping busy.

Debbie was dressed in her own downtime clothes - a pair of yoga pants and a red tank top over a white one. Debbie liked anything that enhanced her new cleavage. Three months ago, she finally got up the nerve to do what she'd always wanted. She had her breasts enhanced. It was a hasty decision that was made and she now regretted it. When she finally went to get properly sized for new bras, she had went from an A to a DD. While they didn't look overly large they were quite different, and they affected Debbie's back badly.

Debbie had oversize sunglasses on. Her hair was about medium length, layered and light brown, with blond highlights.

She smiled at Bella and laughed somewhat. "You're really gonna like this shit. Be afraid, Bell. Be very afraid."

Debbie stepped through the garden, hopping over a small aloe vera succulent. She dodged a small tree's blowing branch, making her way over to Bella, who waited on the stone sidewalk.

"Please, tell me it's not that bad." Bella's face held a little side of worry, and her eyes were fixed on the plastic-covered hangers that Debbie was carrying.

Debbie lifted the plastic off the hangers as she talked. "I can't do that. But, I guess that depends on how you compare it to that frilly shit we're wearing now. Take a look."

Under the plastic dry cleaning cover that Debbie pulled off were three hangers carrying three identical outfits. Tony and Vince were going to start providing the girls with a more provocative uniform, and Bella was a little concerned about the choice they would make. This was the first night it would make its debut. Debbie had to pick hers up, so she had grabbed Bella's along the way. She started work an hour earlier than Bella did, and they usually always worked together. Debbie lived six blocks away in a small house her mother had left her when she passed away. They really did have a lot in common.

The new, black, two-piece outfit was made out of polyester and spandex, and it had a sparkle thread woven in to the material. The halter top tied behind the neck and behind the back, and it would expose a lot of cleavage. The cups built in would hold very little breast. The top would be basically, barely there. It split and gathered into a large metal ring that attached the top to the skirt in the front. The skirt would fit low on the waist and had bloomers attached underneath the gathered ruffles.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." There was no other way for Bella to respond, even though she knew Debbie wasn't joking with her. Bella was just a tad mortified.

"Nope," Debbie popped the 'p' and started laughing at the look on Bella's face. "Hey, at least you don't need to worry about falling out of the shit. I tried mine on at the club, and I need a seven. Vinny ordered all of ours in our old sizes so I've got to put up with half my tits on display for the next two weeks. Besides, Bell, you'll look really cute in this. You've got to admit, in a way it's sort of a step up. At least there's no fucking taffeta involved in this one." Debbie laughed at Bella's face again - she was currently lifting up the ruffled skirt on one of the three outfits to check out the attached underwear.

Bella shook her head slowly and sneered at the outfit. "Yeah, but I can hear Vern already. He'll be giving me shit because I'm too white. 'Black on white, white on black, once you go black you'll never go back'."

Bella's imitation of Vern's voice was very poor, but Debbie laughed anyway. Vern had said that to every one of the girls. He was one of the bouncers, and very, very large. He stood at 6'6", about he was about three hundred and twenty pounds. He was nice, and he knew Bella was a bit shy and liked to keep to herself, so he didn't give her that hard of a time. He always kept his eyes on _his_ ladies and he made sure they always made it to their cars every night after the bar closed. Vern was happily married, with a child on the way. His wife, Beth, was the real estate agent who had sold Bella the house.

"Look, go to the Tan Emporium once a week and get little color if you're that concerned about it. You'll look great. I'm going home. I need another hour or two of sleep before I've got to go in. I'll see you later." Debbie squeezed Bella's hand and threw the hangers over Bella's free arm.

"Thanks for picking them up for me," Bella told her with a smile.

Debbie had already turned around to head back to her idling car. "No problem. Get some sleep." She got in and pulled out, heading east to the corner, and turned left.

Bella sighed out loud, looking at the bag draped over her arm. She took a look around, watching a three year old who was outside with his mom down the street somewhat pulling a dandelion out of the grass. She glanced at her other neighbor, an elderly male across the street but never gave him that much thought because they had never talked. Bella loved the neighborhood she lived in, mainly because it was quiet. Her house was at the end of a short, dead end road, and the front of her house faced the east. South of her house was a thin nature reserve of sorts, filled with palm trees, honey locusts, young poplars, and sycamores. Out of place in the desert but underground runoff kept it nourished. It was just a small line of shade that ran east-to-west to the boulevard two blocks away.

Bella turned back to the house, taking a look at her garden. As she walked to her arched doorway, Bella glanced over at the flat piece of limestone by the white ash tree she'd planted last year. It was a rock that originally came from the house in Arizona where Renee, Phil, and Bella lived. It was her mother's favorite outdoor piece - something she had always brought along whenever they moved. Phil let Bella have it when Renee passed away.

A year and a half ago, Phil and Renee took a short vacation down to Cancun to celebrate Phil's new position as an assistant coach to the Tampa Bay Rays. They were going to move to St. Petersburg as soon as they sold the house in Jacksonville. During their trip, Renee picked up a rare virus that put her in the ICU in Jacksonville with pneumonia. Bella, of course, flew down to stay with her mother because she was not getting better, only steadily worse.

Antibiotics were not killing the infection that was in both of Renee's lungs, and after two weeks, her heart failed from her weakening state. The doctors had warned Phil and Bella that this could occur, but it was still so sudden. Renee, who had been so full of life, so exuberant, did not believe she was going to pull through. It was a side of her mother that Bella had never seen. Renee just seemed to know that she was going to die. She had made Bella promise her to live her life to the fullest, and not dwell on the past.

Of course, Bella promised her mother, and she was doing just that. She knew her mother meant more though; she knew that Renee wanted her to find love again. Bella promised her anyway. But surviving after having her heart ripped from her chest and torn in two once had been hard enough, but suffering the same fate a second time wasn't something that she never expected to recover from, at least when it came to finding love with another. She didn't want it, and she didn't need it. Bella was happy with her life now. Sure, she was alone and didn't have a significant other, but she wasn't complaining. She was happy.

She just had her moments, and today was one of them.

Bella opened her front door, and walked inside. Phil had promised Renee that Bella would be taken care of in case things turned for the worst, and he made good on his promise. Bella took with her the items from their home that Renee would've wanted her to have, and Phil gave her the majority of Renee's life insurance policy as well. With that money, Bella bought the house after she grew tired of living in apartments, wanting more room, privacy, and her own washer and dryer. The only bills she really had were for utilities, insurance, and property taxes. Most of that was covered with her checks from work. The school loans would come later, but Bella kept herself on a strict budget.

The house was paid for, and the black Ford F-150 crew cab pickup that sat in her garage was a gift from the Las Vegas gods when she went on a short vacation with Debbie over a weekend last fall. She took five bucks to a bank of slot machines surrounding the massive vehicle, and after spending a dollar fifty, she put three car symbols on the line. There was five thousand included, which helped take care of the taxes. She sold the little Ford Festiva she'd paid five hundred bucks for to a teenager down the street. Luck was finally on Bella Swan's side. She had a good year, and this one was proving to be good too.

Bella's house was about thirty years old, and the design was Pueblo. It had two bedrooms, one large bath, a small kitchen with a nice sized pantry, and a laundry room. The living room had a kiva fireplace, and hardwood floors ran throughout the house. The entire ceiling was beamed with huge vigas. It wasn't large, but for Bella it was perfect. The living room contained a large, brown leather sofa that faced the southern window. Her mother's favorite blue recliner, two mahogany end tables, and a coffee table that matched also made up pieces in her living room. She had a new 32 inch flat screen TV that Vinny and Tony gave to all of the waitresses last Christmas as a bonus. It was near the east window by the fireplace on a small entertainment center.

Bella walked through the living room, dropping off most of the mail on a long table by the wall. She proceeded to head into the kitchen through another arched doorway, and she made her way to the covered patio outside the back door. Bella's backyard was partially fenced in because her neighbors to the north and to the west both had fenced in yards, and they combined. With the little wooded area on the south side, this was her favorite place in the whole house. Outside was a wicker patio set, along with an outdoor fireplace. Even on the cold days she would often sit out there and read, and the occasional car horn or kids playing out front didn't disrupt the peace she had found in this place.

Bella sat down on the cushion of the rocking chair with the yellow envelope in her hand. She already had a good idea about what it contained. It was a congratulations card because she had received her Associate's Degree in Education. Though she could go to work as a teacher's aide, or as a teacher in early childhood education, Bella opted to keep going to school for her Bachelor's and continue to work at the bar. She really liked it there. She frowned at the card, swallowing hard. She was good at hiding the pain in her chest now.

The man watching her knew what that pain was and everything that had caused it. But it wasn't as strong as it once was.

Her hands were shaking a little, and she opened the card and immediately took out the folded up letter, tossing it into the fireplace. She read the short note congratulating her on the inside, smiled tightly, and put the card back into the envelope. She'd have to pick up a thank you card the next time she was at Wal-Mart.

Bella always thanked Jake and she would always put the same words inside her thank you notes.

_Watch over Charlie for me. _

If he owed her anything, it was that.

The birthday cards (those were the cruelest), the Christmas cards, or any occasional 'just for the hell of it' cards always contained the same thing: a three or four page letter from Jake reminding her why she left in the first place. She thought she had forgiven him because even though she didn't know what it felt like, she knew it was a part of their lives and there was no stopping it. But Jake couldn't understand that even though she had moved on and put that part of her life behind her, she just couldn't take the reminders.

The first letter she had ever read left her a wreck for days. She told him she understood; she even told him she forgave him. Bella asked him to stop sending the letters, but Jake still wanted her friendship. He wanted her to come home, and he wanted to help heal her heart, even if it wasn't his to heal any longer. Jake was always stubborn, and he didn't want to take no for an answer when she told him she could never return to Forks. Now she would only respond to the card itself that contained both of their names.

For nearly three and a half years, Bella hadn't had to deal with the supernatural and mythological aspects of the life that she'd catapulted herself into when she had moved to Forks, except for when she talked to her stepbrother, Seth. It has become a memory, and some aspects have faded over time. But time had not healed everything. Edward had broken Bella's heart, and Jacob fitted a nice and tight bandage around it. Edward and the Cullen's' departure had turned her into a zombie for months. That horrible night was the only thing that perplexed Bella to this day.

Bella had laid on the cool and wet forest floor for hours, and she would have died there if the man who was now watching her sleep on the porch hadn't have shown up. No one would have found her, and the man already knew what fate had in store for them both. That night was one of the things he had needed to do to bring her to him now. He had picked her up and carried her to the forest's edge, laying her back down on the ground.

Charlie found her two minutes later when he heard her mumbling the same words over and over again. Bella remembered the cool body that had held her close to him, but something had been off. He had smelled like no other vampire she knew. The truth was, he had really had no scent at all. He had felt like no other vampire she knew, and all of this was the only part of that entire matter that left her confused and wondering to this very day.

Jake had pulled her out of her life as a zombie. He had given her a means of escape from her constant self-pity and thoughts about Edward and the Cullen's. Jake became her friend, and although he wanted more, he did not push Bella. He was there for her no matter how hard it was to see her heartbroken over that _bloodsucker_. He was always her friend first. It took some time, but in the end it was him putting his life on the line for her that finally swayed her to take him as hers, and hers alone. In a way, she thanked Victoria for that. But that was then.

It was during spring break of that year - when Bella had spent the majority of her time in La Push - that the drama concerning Victoria and her quest to kill Bella came to a close. In fact, Sam and Jake really ought to have thanked her for giving them the opportunity. But Jake had been so overcome with her near-death that all he did was yell at her for doing something so foolish. But given the situation, he eventually broke down, and only then did Bella realize the extent of the love Jacob felt for her at the time.

Bella realized that day her efforts to hear Edward's voice were indeed reckless and just plain stupid. But that was the day she chose not to hold onto him any longer, and to move on with the one person who did love her and would take care of her for the rest of her life. Bella had jumped from the cliffs at La Push, nearly killing herself in the process. Both Jake and Sam had gone in after her. Jake pulled her out, and Sam got a hold of the redheaded vampire just as she was making her way towards Bella, who was still in the water.

Once Sam had laid eyes on Victoria, he shifted to his wolf form in the water. Sam caught her - at least that's what they told Bella - and he dragged Victoria to the surface and close to where Jacob had laid Bella on the beach.

During the event, Victoria managed to sever one of Sam's arms. Or, at the time, his front leg. The fight was on when Jacob finally intervened, and after a fierce battle he managed to get his jaws around her torso, ripping her stone flesh and biting her into two pieces. Bella was coughing up water on the beach and watched the entire scene unfold.

Paul, Embry, and Quil had shown up just as Victoria had been ripped in two, and the boys dragged her pieces further back on the shore, burning her right there on First Beach. Watching Jacob lay his life on the line like that, and rescuing her just a short time before, made Bella realize that he needed her as much as she needed him. It was after that, while they were waiting for word on Harry Clearwater back at Jacob's, when it all really sank in for her.

Jacob would always be there for her and understand why part of her would always be broken. Bella told him everything that day - absolutely every thought, care, and reasoning behind why she had committed to the recklessness she would partake in just to hear Edward's voice. She told him that she knew that he would never come back, and that she might not ever get over him. She let go of that last shred of hope. She wanted to be happy, and she would give their relationship everything she had and never would he ever have to worry about who she would choose - because it would always be him. She told Jake she loved him, and she did. Jacob did not hesitate. He understood perfectly well that part of her heart was gone with Edward, and a piece of Jacob's own heart filled that fissure.

Bella just didn't know it was only hers to borrow, and that someday he would take it back.

Their time together helped seal Bella's promise that she would always choose him. Bella loved Jake more than anything. He was her best friend, he was her confidante, and he treated her with respect. Jacob made her feel like a woman. After high school graduation, he became her lover in every way. The passion they shared with each other had sealed the love they had for one another. Bella might not have lived forever, but her whole heart belonged to him for the rest of his life.

Summer went by with Bella and Jacob's relationship growing stronger and more unbreakable by the day. Or, so she thought. It was August, and Bella had decided in July that she would delay college in Seattle for one more semester, as she could not leave Jacob. She became somewhat dependent on him, and the same could be said for Jacob. They could never spend enough time together, and there was neither a spot on First Beach that wasn't christened by Jacob and Bella, nor a fallen tree behind his house, nor her truck that he always kept running.

Quil's birthday party was held at First Beach and they had a bonfire. His cousin came in from out of town and brought along a friend from the reservation they lived on. Bella didn't know it then, but the strong chords of Jacob's love and devotion severed from her heart and tied to another in an unbreakable bond that only his kind could create. Jacob was quiet that night.

Jacob tried to fight it; he wanted to believe that Bella was the only one for him. But he couldn't. The only thing was that he needed to realize that before it came close to the day that changed her life the previous year. In truth, Bella knew something was wrong. Jacob had become distant, but he just passed it off as stress on the job.

Like Edward, though, he made it through her birthday, and five days after that. It was after she got off work one night at Newton's when everything came crashing down. Bella was going to meet him at Sam and Emily's, where they were going to have dinner. When she got there, Jacob was gone. Sam's morose face - and Emily not meeting her eyes - told her something was dreadfully wrong, and Sam told her to go to First Beach where Jacob was waiting for her.

He was sitting along the piece of driftwood that was officially known as their spot. The sinking feeling that Bella felt when she walked down to the beach was also on his face, and Jacob only needed to utter two words for a wound to re-open like it never had before. Bella knew instantly there was no reason to fight it. There was no reason to invest herself into something that just wasn't possible because Jacob had made a decision and he would stick to it. Jacob tried to talk to her, but words meant nothing to her at that point.

There was nothing that could be said that could mend what was just ripped from Bella. She simply turned around and walked away, not paying attention to Jacob who had fallen to his knees for the overwhelming remorse he felt. Bella walked back to her truck, trying to stay on her feet. Leah Clearwater was waiting for her and she picked her up when she finally fell to the ground. Leah drove her home.

In the end, it was Leah who told Bella what she needed to do, because there was really nothing she didn't know about the girl. Bella realized it, too, and nothing would sway her decision to pack her shit and run away from the one place that only seemed capable of causing emotional devastation. Charlie was home, and she lay every thought and emotion she could out for him that ever concerned Edward or Jacob - without divulging the secrets of the mythological world she had uncovered and a part of which she had become.

The only logical explanation she could really give Charlie for Jacob was that their relationship had ended and could never be repaired because Jacob loved another. The scene had been ugly and heart wrenching, and seeing Bella like that broke Charlie's heart. He listened to her pleas for him to understand why she needed to leave. He understood the devastation in her eyes because for a long time he looked that way himself. He even saw that Forks was literally killing her. He helped her pack, and he gave her five thousand dollars out of his savings. She promised to call, and she did - once a week, and on birthdays and holidays. He even visited her in Santa Fe once a year.

Charlie took the leap last year when he finally asked Sue Clearwater to marry him. They lived together in his house, and in two more years Charlie would be retiring from his position when it was time for re-election. They were planning to use some of his retirement money to buy a small motor home and travel around the United States. Sue gave her house in La Push to Leah, who had imprinted on Linae's brother some time before. Linae was now Jacob's wife. Billy Black died six months after Bella left when his kidneys gave out. When Charlie called this morning, he gave her the news of Linae and Jacob's unexpected pregnancy.

When Bella left Forks, she didn't know where to go. She did not want to go to her mother's - she wouldn't be able to stand the pity that was involved, or her constant badgering to move on. All she knew was that she wanted to get far away from Forks. Far away from anything not completely human, because the mythological world broke her heart just one too many times.

It was better to deal with the stress of just worrying about some freak serial killer, assaulter, or maybe a car accident that would end the life of a danger magnet. That was what she could handle now. She drove south into the sun. She kept driving, but it was slow going because that piece of shit truck of hers could only take her fifty-five miles an hour. She stopped to sleep when she reached Santa Fe one night, intending to head east the next morning.

When she woke up, she packed up her bag and grabbed a donut from the continental breakfast room. Once outside, she discovered that same piece of shit truck didn't start. Next door to the motel was a small service station, and one of the servicemen took a look at it for her. He was amazed it had made it that far, since the transmission and clutch were completely shredded. Bella's truck had officially died.

What she didn't know was that her truck had actually been killed by the man who was watching her now, and he knew she had traveled long enough. She was home. He also knew that she would love Santa Fe, as well as the warm sun that would hit her face three hundred twenty days a year on the average.

Bella made her decision when she was going through the want ads trying to find another car. She found a listing for a new sports department store that was hiring workers at eight bucks an hour. She could live on that, find a small apartment, and work to forget her problems while at the same time save a little money for school. She, of course, found the shittiest apartment imaginable, and in the poorest of neighborhoods. He knew she would be safe, but he watched her anyway. At this point, there was nothing left for him to do but just wait and give her time to heal.

On the patio, Bella's eyelids snapped open and she stretched. She needed to eat something before heading in to work. She picked up the card from where it had fallen and walked out to the edge of the patio, sliding her feet out of her furry flip-flops and stepping onto the cool grass.

The man watching her loved it when she did this - it always made him smile. She would always close her eyes and just stand there so quietly, with the sun warming her face, and all the distinct colors of red and brown shining through her hair.

Bella opened her eyes and something flashed out of the left corner of her eye. There was an instant frown and she quickly turned to find the culprit. It was just enough time for her heart to jump, panic was something she felt quick these days. Her garden globe sat to her left in the little miniature garden area she would plant this year with tomatoes and radishes. The sun was reflecting off the green globe, and Bella smiled. She turned around to retrieve her flip-flops, and then walked into the house.

She only had an hour or so before she had to head in, and the man watching her needed to go home and collect his thoughts. He was excited because this was the night when her eyes would truly meet his. He wanted to look good - not that he had to try too hard.

This was the night when fate would finally make itself known to Bella Swan, and he really couldn't wait. He had waited long enough. Part of him dreaded it - only because of her response. But, in time, that would work itself out, so he didn't need to worry. He was thrilled that her eyes would find him, and he really couldn't wait to see her in that outfit.

Bella's life was about to change again, and fate would find its way into her heart - _forever._ They both just had to put some effort into it.

Little did he know, that fate had changed its plans.

**A/N: Thank you all so much for reading.**


	2. Chapter 1 First Sight

Chapter One. First Sight

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

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**April 10, 2009**

***B*E*L*L*A***

I was having one of those days where I wish I could have just stayed in bed. Which was the case anytime I had to go to work on a Friday night. I woke up fifteen minutes later than I normally would have from my nap, and I was in a bad mood to begin with. Charlie's phone call that morning with news about Jake and Linae was unexpected. It was news had me feeling bitter and jealous, because they were moving forward, headed towards the future. Jake was going to be a daddy.

I knew I was probably just feeling sorry for myself, but it just couldn't be helped.

I looked at the bigger picture. Jake had a child on the way at the ripe old age of nineteen. Between school, work, _and_ a child, he would have his work cut out for him. He would have to drastically cut back on his run around and fuck off time with the pack, not to mention that he wouldn't be spending a lot of time in the shed anymore. His free time would be rare.

He was probably loving every minute of it. It pissed me off.

Of course, I told Charlie to inform Jake that he had given me the news. The last thing I needed was another damn card or letter informing me of their family-in-the-making. Not that it would stop him from still sending one. But I made a vow this time with myself that if he did, I wouldn't open the damn thing at all. It would go straight to the fiery pit of hell that was also known as my backyard fireplace. I knew Jake meant well and I knew he thought he owed me something, but he didn't.

No, he did owe me something. He needed to just leave me alone, and go away. He needed to just forget about trying to fix something he couldn't fix. But he just wouldn't accept the fact that I'd moved on in the only way I could. A couple thousand miles hadn't stopped him from trying, though, and he still thought that I'd make my way back to Forks.

There was only one thing that would ever make me return to Forks, and my return wouldn't be for a good reason.

I didn't have time to spend a lot of time on my appearance. I threw on my face, touching up yesterday's eyeliner that was still faint on my lower lids. A little mascara, and that was it. Wearing makeup to cover up blemishes was a requirement. Vinny and Tony required that 'their girls' look their best.

Our new uniforms were two-piece atrocities that looked like they had been picked right out of a Frederick's of Hollywood catalog. The little skirt had a pair of airy and thin bloomers attached to it that didn't even cover half my ass. I threw on a pair of black underwear to wear underneath. The less free roaming hands could touch, the better.

The top showed plenty of cleavage and it gaped. My back felt naked. If anything, the outfit kind of looked like beachwear. My entire midriff was exposed except where the ring attached the top to the bottom in the front. The low waist of the skirt is what bothered me the most, along with how short it really was. Squatting down just to see how it would ride up, I found that I'd be exposing a little crack if I had to fix my shoes.

We were required to wear heels, and I had a favorite pair of wedges that I would always wear when I worked. They didn't make my feet ache, and they were black, which was required. However, my left strap was becoming worn, and I was constantly squatting down to refasten it when the prong of the clasp would come out of the hole.

Normally I would always get to work a little early. My shift started at six and it took me ten minutes to get to the club, but it was already 5:50PM. Parking would probably be a bitch. The club wasn't far - it was only a little over a mile north of my house and on the other side of the interstate on Cerrillos Road, but traffic was a bitch, too.

I lived in a good area. There was very little crime and I lived close to a junior high school. I lived amongst families, retirees, and it was quiet.

The north side of the interstate on Cerrillos Road was a different matter. The club was located in a not-so-good part of town. Tattoo parlors, bars, used car lots, check cashing stores, a motel you could rent by the hour, and several small grab-and-go eateries labeled it one of worst areas in Santa Fe. The club itself, however, attracted all walks of life. You just had to come in looking your best with a pocket full of money.

I grabbed my keys off the table and walked out the kitchen door to the garage. I was also the proud owner of a black Ford F-150 crew cab that I had won in Vegas on sheer luck. Even though gas cost a fortune to fill the tank, and my insurance was out of this world, I really loved my truck.

I opened the door and slid into the leather seat. My truck was fully loaded with a CD player, but it and the radio never got used much. It wasn't because I didn't like music, but I was forced to hear it on a constant basis at the club.

The club I worked at - Generations - had a lot of regulars, and there were always new faces. The college was nearby, so it was mostly a young crowd on the weekend. Working at the club had given me a new appreciation for silence, but I was also more educated in several different genres of music, even Reggae and Latin. My favorite nights to work just for the music were Wednesdays and Thursdays. Thursdays were dedicated to the seventies and the eighties, which meant a lot of disco and hair bands.

I liked listening to disco through the club's speakers, and one of my bosses, Vinny, had taught me to dance a little bit. Wednesday nights were country music, and this brought in the young as well as the old. It was fun watching them line dance, along with the older couples doing the two step. The only reason I didn't like Wednesdays was because every now and then a few 'outlaws' would tend to get a little frisky with us girls or some of the guests. We had more bar fights on Wednesdays than any other day of the week, even when we were loaded to capacity.

Tonight was Friday night, which meant I would be very busy once I walked in the door. Friday nights were always busy early, and we usually stayed that way until last call at 1:45AM. I'd also be listening to deafening Top 40, dance, pop, and R&B. And even though I didn't care for how loud it was played - because you couldn't understand shit that was being sung or shit that was being said to you - I liked working the weekend because of the money involved, and time always flew by. And since it was busy, being hit on by some jerk was less likely to happen with all the fresh meat that was packed inside the club. The downside with the club being so packed was that it was always too hot, and that just made it worse trying to move around with a fully-loaded tray.

We were supposed to park in the back of the club in a small lot that the employees in the kitchen looked after. The kitchen door was always open to let out some of the heat, and a lot of the staff would stand in the doorway to smoke and shoot the shit. Parking in a space, I quickly headed inside through the kitchen.

The kitchen was white and expansive, with metal counters, cupboards, warming areas, and pots and pans hanging everywhere. The clanging of dishes and utensils filled the room with noise. The smell of marinara sauce and fresh, roasted garlic bread wafted to my nose. Sometimes the smell of garlic was so strong that it would almost trigger my gag reflex. The prep area also served as our locker room. We each had a small locker and I opened mine to throw my keys and purse inside. I grabbed one of the trays sitting on top of the locker cabinet and walked out the kitchen door into the little restaurant off of the club.

"Coming out."

Too many times I had forgotten to utter that phrase and would nearly collide with one of the bus boys bringing dirty dishes and glasses in from the dining area. I wasn't a waitress for the dining portion of the club anymore. Vinny and Tony had the girls who were under twenty one take care of the guests here. The only food allowed outside of this area was strictly the bar snacks. Popcorn, pretzels, pickles, eggs, and nuts occasionally. Once I passed through the dining portion of the club, I reached the other door that lead out into the club, the beat of the music vibrating through the walls.

The music was so loud that my insides vibrated. It would only get louder as the night progressed. The expansive dance floor and the DJ booth were located in the right corner by the door leading to the dining area and the kitchen. From there, the floor was tiered and there were three levels. There were five seating areas that were divvied up for the cocktail waitresses to tend to. We were responsible for our areas and for those who hung out on the rails bordering each tier. The area I would have tonight was located to the right of the main bar. It was spread out along all three tiers and consisted of bar tables that would seat four. It was a favorite spot in the club where people would mingle.

Vern, one of the bouncers, was in his usual spot in front of the illuminated bar. He was very large and intimidating looking, but inside the behemoth of the man was a gentleman. He was tall - about 6'6" - very muscular, and thick. His roaming eyes found me immediately as I made my way up to the top tier. Vern was wearing a black turtleneck that looked like it was cutting off the air supply to his neck and head. He had on his trademark black slacks and his steel-toed loafers, and his large arms were crossed over his chest. He did a quick scan as I walked up to him, looking at me from head to toe and back up again.

Vern had a very rich and deep voice and he practically bellowed when he talked. You rarely had to ask him to speak up. He still leaned down to make sure I would hear him over the music, though. "Bella, Bella, Bella…You are a _fine_ looking woman."

I craned my neck up to look at his face. "Thanks. I already know what you're going to say, so don't even go there."

Vern feigned a look of innocence. "What? I'm just giving you a compliment. Don't get so defensive."

I smiled at him and watched a group of ten walk in the front door. "It's not going to be a quiet night, is it?"

"Nope. Far from it. Tony made my job at keeping you ladies safe a lot harder by dressing you in that_._ I've already thrown out one motherfucker for trying to lick Jess's tit, so watch yourself tonight."

"Christ, it's only six o'clock."

He threw me a knowing look. "I know. Fucked up, isn't it? I'll be on the floor later, watching all your backs, but I'll be up at the door for a while."

Vern's eyes bore through some guy who walked by, checking out my goods. "Watch yourself, B."

"You, too. I'll see you later." I took a couple of steps to his right when he spoke softly, but he made sure I was still able to hear him.

"Black on white, white on black..."

"Shut up, Vern."

He was chuckling as I made my way over to the bar. The main bar was huge and shaped like an L. It seated eighteen on the main side and eight more on the smaller portion. The bar was well lit. Kurt, who was Vinny's cousin, was one of the bartenders. He suffered from night blindness, so it was always a little brighter when he was working. The corner of the bar was marked off for employees by two chrome bars that ran over the black bar top. The back portion of the wall was mirrored and contained the shelving for all the liquor above and below. There were four drink guns behind the bar, with all our basics at the push of a button. Several daiquiri, margarita, and wine glasses of every size hung from the slotted ceiling along the lighted mirror. Vinny and Tony had pictures of their extended family in Italy hanging up all over the wall, and a few pictures of us girls with certain VIP's.

Debbie was standing by the chrome bar waiting for Ron, one of the other bartenders, to take her order. She looked a little irritated and was trying to put her tits back inside her top. Diane, another one of the waitresses, was standing by the corner of the L. She was a cute girl who was a dead ringer for Valerie Bertinelli in the days of _One Day at a Time_, but she had slightly shorter, light brown hair. She was married and constantly trying to set me up with one of her husband's friends. Mark, her husband, was in pharmaceuticals and he traveled a lot.

I walked up and sat my tray down. I went through the small door by the corner, lifting up the bar top so I could get to the time clock. Tony was already standing there with my card handy and my till box ready. Tony was older - in his mid-thirties – and his smooth, olive skin made his round face look young. He had a thin mustache and dark brown eyes, gray patches along his temples, and his black hair was thick but short. There was never a hair out of place. He smiled and jutted his chin out to me. That was how he always said 'Hi'.

"Hey, Bell," Debbie yelled out. Britney Spears' new song was blasting down on the floor.

"How's it going?"

She loved to wear glitter. She wore it every night in some form - it was either in her hair or on her face. Tonight her hair sparkled. She loved the club scene, having worked in clubs and bars since she'd graduated high school. Debbie was a beautiful, dark blond with a great set of fake tits, though they were a little too big and hurt her back.

She eyeballed me up and down. "It's going. You look good. Vern's got his work cut out for him tonight."

Diane spoke up as I walked back out to the other side of the bar. "Jess already got accosted when some guy tried to lick her tits. Get ready for, 'Oh, I'm sorry...but was that as good for you as it was for me'? Or, 'Why don't you sit on my face so I can eat my way to your heart?' I can't complain, though, I've already made thirty within the hour. How much have you made, Deb?"

"Uh, sixty-five."

I was getting my cash box in order when Mandy, another one of the girls, walked up and slammed her tray down. Attitude-wise, she just sucked, and she reminded me a lot of Lauren Mallory, only she was nastier. She could be nice enough when she wanted to be, but her whole world revolved around men. And appearance-wise, she thought she was God's gift to them. She was too thin, and she popped diuretics, among other things. She had long, dark blond hair that was thinning out on the top from being colored too much. She had a pointy nose, with a slight bump on the bridge. Six months ago she managed to get it broken by the wife of the man with whom she was screwing.

I felt sorry for her. It was like she was afraid to be alone. She looked at me and eyed me up and down with a slight sneer on her face. According to her, the rest of us needed to lose a little weight. She was obviously not in one of her good moods tonight.

She screamed out. "Hey, Bella... Ron! I need three bottles of Corona!"

Ron, who was standing right in front of her, quickly pulled out three bottles from the cooler behind him, walked over to stand in front of her, popped the tops off, and slammed them down on her tray. She said nothing else, and in a huff she turned around to go deliver her order.

"What's her problem?" I asked Diane. Debbie had left to deliver her order.

Jessie, or Jess as we call her, had walked up to clock in and get her cash box ready. She was fairly new but we all took to her because she was a really nice girl. She just talked too much. She had reddish brown hair that was cropped in the back with longer layers framing her slightly round face. She had a beautiful complexion - her face was flawless.

She yelled out, and her voice had a high edge to it as she walked out of the swinging door. "She's just pissed off because she got caught with Ron by that guy she was seeing. You know...Jack, I think? She's only been seeing him a week. Plus, her warts must have flared up. She's been squeezing her legs and digging at herself when she thinks nobody's watching. Stupid bitch." She giggled and Diane laughed as she walked away to deliver her order.

I tried not to laugh, but sometimes Jess just passed on too much information. "Jess, she's your friend. How can you talk about her like that?"

"Well, she _is_ my friend. But if she doesn't watch it, she's going to catch something a hell of a lot worse. She pissed me off when she told me I needed to lose a little weight. At least I _have_ an ass."

I patted her shoulder as I left the bar and headed to my table grouping for an order. The job was pretty repetitive, but it did require some skill remembering several orders at once. You always had people standing by the rails on the tiers, and we took those orders too. I'd learned a lot about liquor and bartending since I began working at the club, but I wasn't one to drink much. A daiquiri or a margarita occasionally, but alcohol was hard on my stomach.

The night moved along quite smoothly for me, and by midnight I had done quite well as far as tips were concerned. The new uniforms were a hit, and the hands were indeed roaming. Usually it only took one look for an asshole to back off and apologize, but every now and then an intimidating Vern would have to show up out of nowhere to verbally convince the offending party that perhaps it was in their best interest to 'never fucking do that again'.

Exhaustion soon set in, along with being too hot. There were too many bodies packed into the building. Sweat was dripping down my neck, and my hair was feeling damp and looking limp. I was peeing every hour because I would drink a bottle of water every time I got caught up.

The music was loud and the dance floor was packed. Drunk people loved to dance, and that's when things would actually slow down for us. Last call was sent out and I made one last round of my tables. When I had my orders, I made my way back to the bar.

Jess, Mandy, and Diane were already there. Debbie, whose area was up by the front door, was trying to push her way through a horde of people who were standing on the third tier by the stairway.

I chanted the latest drink round in my head. _Four bottles of Bud Light, two JCs watered down, a margarita on the rocks, four slips, three long islands, two BMs, and three Jager. _

Debbie appeared up on my left side while we waited at the counter for one of the guys to come over. The front of the bar was packed with people trying to get their last drink. I kept repeating my order to myself over and over. Tony was behind the bar now with his sleeves rolled up on his dress shirt, and he started to fill our orders.

"I told you! Just _look_ at him. Have you ever seen anything as hot as that?" Mandy screamed at Jess. The song _Poker Face_ was playing, and the volume was turned up. She had an excited look on her face and she was practically panting. Her eyes flashed between Jess' face and to whatever walking piece of meat she discovered.

Mandy had shitty taste in good looking men. She was always going on about someone, so I paid no attention. I had a nervous habit of nodding my head while keeping my order to memory, and Debbie grabbed my head to hold it still, laughing._Three long islands, two BMs, and three Jager…_

"Debbie! Bella! Look up at the guy standing by twenty-two. Mandy actually found a real winner," Jess screamed out. Tony shooed Mandy away when he had her tray loaded. Debbie let go of my head, and she was looking around me to try to see whoever was at twenty-two, I presumed. She grabbed my nodding head again and turned me to the left while she yelled into my ear.

"Oh, shit, Bella! Adonis has entered the building!"

Her statement didn't register until I focused my eyes up to the back wall where I knew table twenty-two was. I couldn't see anything but part of a white, silk shirt that was glowing in the black light because there were three people standing in my line of sight. But all of a sudden one of the men shifted and I found the man they were looking at.

Table twenty-two was a high table with two chairs usually, but they had been taken away and moved somewhere else. He was standing with his back up against the wall and his right arm was resting on the table. It was a darker area that couples usually used to make out or where people would go to get as far away as possible from the noise and crowd, but there were black lights in the ceiling. He had medium length hair, brown and blond. The lights were throwing it off. He was tall, it was the first thing I noticed.

Then I looked at his face.

_Margarita on the rocks, four slips, three long..._

_Three long...three long..._

_._

_._

_._

_Oh, fuck._

It wasn't just his face. It was his eyes. I couldn't see them well enough to see what color they were, but it looked like he was looking directly at me. His face was chiseled perfection. His pale skin was glowing. Some of the red and blue lighting in the ceiling reflected off of him, making the stone skin of his face and neck react badly.

I just knew. Yet I was in denial. Pure fucking denial. I didn't know him, but I sure as hell knew what he was.

Once I had been introduced to the world of vampires, I didn't need to be a genius to pick one out in a crowd, but I didn't want to accept that I was looking into the eyes of one. I didn't want it to be true, and I certainly didn't want _it_ grinning at me slightly.

_Bella._

_Run. Run now._

_Bella! _

"BELLA!"

My eyes only snapped to her face when she gave a stern pull to my arm.

"What the hell is wrong?!" Debbie looked scared. I wondered what I looked like.

At some point my body chose to use the bar rail for life support. I was clinging to it, using it to keep myself upright. I was hot and struggling for air. There was an anvil sitting on my chest. I couldn't even hear the music anymore, just the pounding beat of my own heart.

"Bella, answer me! What's the matter, honey?" Debbie was clearly worried.

I looked away from her and looked quickly back to table twenty-two. He wasn't there. I looked around and through the crowd of bodies in each direction, trying to find him again. Nothing. He was gone.

I shifted my eyes back to Debbie.

"Bella?" The worry was in her brow, and in her eyes.

"I forgot my drink order." But it came out only above a whisper.

She looked at my face for a moment with deep concern, and then put the palm of her hand against my forehead. "Jesus, you're burning up. Tony! Tony, come here!"

I wasn't sure how long I had stood there looking at the vampire, but Diane and Jess were both gone. It was only Debbie and I by the rail, and Tony had been putting Debbie's tray together.

Tony dropped the last drink down on her tray and leaned over the counter top. I could hardly hear his thick accent, because my ears were ringing. "What's a matter with her?"

"She's sick. She forgot her drink order," Debbie answered. But I think even she knew it was something else.

Tony only looked at me for a moment.

"Get the fuck off the floor, Bella. Deb, deliver your shit and meet me in her section."

It was generally a bad idea to argue with Tony, and I wasn't about to. I was hot and almost on the verge of passing out. My stomach was churning, and I only realized I was shaking from head to toe when I took a step. I looked frantically to table twenty-two once again and everywhere else around me. He was gone.

I pushed my way through the people who were standing by the stairway on the first tier, continuing down to the second. I had my legs back, so I practically _ran._ When I reached the bottom of the second tier, I made the last leap down the stairs to the outer edge of the dance floor.

I had only needed to re-buckle my shoe once, the entire night. When I bent my foot to make that last leap, my strap came completely undone and my foot slipped out. When I landed on the bottom floor, I wasn't prepared for being unbalanced. My foot was all sweaty and the floor was slick, and I slipped on the floor.

I was going down, and I was going to land right on my back. The air left me and I waited for the impact.

It never came.

My eyes had closed reflexively, but in that slight moment of disorientation I felt the hard arms that had stopped my fall. I felt the cold. I felt my stomach pressed up against a part of his torso.

I opened my eyes and turned my head to see the face of the vampire about a foot away from mine. Pale perfection stared back at me with a concerned and excited look. He looked directly into my eyes and I could not move for the life of me.

Those eyes.

They were odd. Brown and just odd. Muddy brown. I also noticed that he was breathing hard and that I was gripping his upper arms with my hands. His arms were wrapped around me, one around my shoulders and the other tightly around my waist.

He was a big one, that vampire.

But his eyes changed as I gazed into them. The brown disintegrated away rather quickly and I stared into the bright red orbs that were, in turn, burning into me. I could feel flames practically licking my head, licking my throat. It might not have actually been fire, but that's what I felt. Heat. Heat all over, and it even had a sound. A hum.

I was absolutely terrified. I couldn't move.

"It might be in your best interest to take your fucking hands off of her. Right. _Now_."

I recognized Vern's deep voice. I still couldn't look away from his eyes.

He blinked. And then he talked.

"Hi, Bella." A tenor. Rich and smooth.

He stood me up, only letting go when I balanced myself on my legs. I was still unbalanced because I was missing my shoe. I looked away from him and up to Vern, who was standing behind him, glaring at the vampire.

_Oh, God. He would fail. He would die._

I had to concentrate just to make my legs work. I turned around and ran for the door that led to the back. My stomach was doing somersaults; my heart was threatening to thump out of my chest. Or my ears.

I pulled the door open quickly and ran through the small eating area. I ran through the door which led into the kitchen and made for the bathroom that was located in a small hall by the lockers. I collided with the door, pushing it open so hard it hit the wall. The commode was in sight and I fell to my knees, grabbing on to the edge of the seat with both of my hands.

I let the heaves take over, and I puked my guts out.

Peter walked out of the club with Bella's shoe tucked under his arm. Vern had not noticed when Peter had retrieved it.

He was worried about Bella, who was currently puking her guts out in the back of the club and sobbing uncontrollably.

Bella would be okay, but it would be days before she would see Peter again. Peter knew how difficult this was for her. Bella had moved on with her life as best as she could have under the circumstances, and this was upsetting as hell for her. She needed the time to get her emotions and feelings in check and prepare herself for the worst.

But she still wouldn't be prepared.

Bella knew what Peter was – a vampire who lived off human blood. She feared the worst, and she really should have. He was a killer. A murderer. He lived off blood, but he lived off her, too. She just didn't know she had nothing to fear. Not when it came to him.

Peter walked through the small parking lot in front of the club and headed north on the sidewalk towards his truck. He had truly enjoyed watching her bust her ass tonight. He loved watching her, period.

The boy who had tried to cop a feel should consider himself lucky that she hadn't turned around and kneed him in the nuts. Peter had enjoyed watching that - watching her on the offense because she was so sure of herself now, and he knew she could handle herself pretty damn well. It came with the job, but he hated the fact that she worked there.

Her eyes always dilated just a little whenever she got angry, and aggressiveness in Bella was a beautiful thing. It took his breath away. It turned him on.

Peter would have liked to have throttled that boy a good one, but the fucker would have probably died horribly and that would have fucked everything up. But the guy apologized sincerely, and figured out right away she was not to be fucked with. If she was good with that then so was he.

Peter smiled to himself as he walked slowly down the sidewalk. Home was on the other side of town, but he had nothing better to do for the moment, so he strolled past his truck and thought of her, her eyes, and the way she smelled. He had always felt the connection, but that moment, he felt the bonds tighten to the point where he felt it like it was the first time he saw her all over again. In his heart, night became day, and touching her skin had sent a shock rippling throughout his body. But it also felt like he left his body, and became one with the universe. The universe was her. It took his sight away, for just an instant.

He paid no attention to the looks that he received from the people who passed him by, and only slight attention was given to the hookers who called after him from across the street. Early morning breakfast material perhaps, but he wasn't thirsty, and they smelled okay.

Peter took Bella's shoe out from under his arm. The strap was worn and looked like it was going to break. The hole for the clasp on the shoe was stretched out. It was no wonder it wouldn't stay fastened anymore.

Peter would cobble it for Bella, along with the other one as soon as she threw it out. He knew how much Bella liked those shoes. He smiled at the thought. She appreciated the little things, and even though this one would cause her pain at first, in the long run it would be worth it. Little steps would be taken to gain her trust. And her love.

Peter couldn't wait.


	3. Chapter 2 Blood and Whiskey

Chapter 2. Blood and Whiskey

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

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***B*E*L*L*A***

I wasn't sure how long I sat sprawled out on the floor with my face glued to the edge of the toilet seat - a toilet seat that was probably not the cleanest thing in the world at that moment, considering the number of asses that had sat down on it at one time or another, but I just couldn't give a shit.

It was nice and cool, and my head was throbbing from both crying and throwing up.

It was hard to face the facts. And every time I tried, I would cry harder and my gut would churn.

There had been a vampire in the club. A vampire who wasn't a Cullen. A vampire who killed people. I didn't know which was more upsetting, the fact that I had discovered another vampire - and in all places, Santa Fe - or the fact that he was in the club looking for his dinner.

It was both, and it was also the fact that he knew my name.

"_Hi, Bella."_

It was Tony who found me on the floor of the bathroom. The door hadn't closed all the way and he pushed it open when he heard me crying. He picked me up off the floor, but not before flushing the toilet and spewing out a list of profanities because I hadn't. Tony was mysophobic, which was ironic figuring he ran a public establishment, and at that, a bar. Normally he wouldn't go near someone who was barfing their guts out because he was constantly worried about being contaminated with something god awful.

He must have been worried because he kept his arms around me to make sure I wouldn't fall.

I sat on chair by the lockers and reassured Tony, Vinny, and Debbie that I was just sick and would be fine. Debbie knew I wasn't telling the truth and I knew she was waiting until we were alone so she could find out what the hell was going on.

I argued with them to no avail, I wouldn't be driving myself home. Debbie normally got off at two, so I reluctantly agreed to let her drive me home. Vinny and Tony would drop off my truck later on and put the keys underneath a planter by the front door.

Vern had wandered back to find me once the club had closed and people had filtered out. I sent him out to look for my shoe but he came back empty handed. He searched everywhere, figuring it had been kicked around on the floor. The cleaning crew would be told not to throw it out if they came across it. Tony told me that if I didn't feel better when I woke up in the morning that I should call in because he didn't want me coming in sick.

Debbie was the one person I called friend. She knew when to give me space and she never asked too many questions. She knew I had a suffered from some sort of emotional and traumatic history, and she knew I liked to keep to myself. But that little incident was going to garner a few, and I just hoped it wouldn't irritate her when I outright lied to her.

It was a silent ride home. Another crying jag hit me and I was too busy hyperventilating to form a coherent word.

She pulled up in the driveway and followed me inside. I went into the bedroom, throwing my one wedge into the closet.

I pulled out a pair of sweats that had the legs cut off and an old t-shirt out of my dresser. I had to get the fuck out of that outfit. I stripped out of it and my bra, throwing on my other clothes. Debbie didn't say anything, she just watched me.

She walked over and stood in front of me when I sat down on the bed.

"Alright. What the hell is going on? And don't lie, Bella. You can't lie worth a shit. Who the hell was he?"

It was safe to say at that point in time, I wanted her to get the hell away from me. Not because she had questions, but because I fully believed he would come after me.

I had to get rid of her. I was so sure I was going to die. I assumed that _that_ vampire had probably figured out that I knew what he was, or that I at least had a good idea that he was not human. There was a good chance I wasn't going to live through the night. But if I could help it, I wasn't going to let anyone else get caught up in this fucking mess, especially not someone I cared about.

I had a bad case of the shakes, and it made talking and telling the lie that much more difficult. I was afraid, and it didn't take a genius to see it.

"Deb, honestly, I haven't felt good for the past two hours. I'm fine. It's just a little bug, that's all."

She raised her voice and spoke with conviction. "Oh, bullshit. You were fine until I pointed out that guy to you. I was there, Bella. You had a panic attack. Don't insult my intelligence. _What_ is wrong?"

She got on her knees and grabbed my fists. My hands were all clenched up.

"I've always minded my own business and let you tell me as much as you wanted to. I'm not so dumb as to not know that you've got a few secrets, Bell. You don't trust people and I'm sure you've got your reasons for that, but you can trust me. Does this have something to do with Jake?" She asked quietly.

I had told Debbie a little. She knew that I came from Forks. Without divulging any information pertaining to wolves and vampires, I had told her that I had left there because my best friend - the boy I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with - had met another girl and that he ended it before he cheated on me. It was the only thing I could think of to tell her. It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie either.

"No. No. Look, I can't explain it. I'm sorry, but I just _can't_. If I did, you would think I was fucking nuts and you'd drive me down to the hospital and check me into the psych ward. It's just...he reminded me of somebody I once knew and I just lost it, that's all. Really, don't worry. Come tomorrow, I'll be fine. And you're wrong, I do trust people. I trust you. But I…I just can't tell you." I had kept calm enough when I started talking to her, but by the end I was a blubbering idiot.

Debbie got up and walked out the door and across the hall to the bathroom. She brought back a damp, cold wash rag and some toilet paper to blow my nose.

She sat down next to me as I wiped my face with the cold rag.

She sighed. "You can't lie worth a shit. You know that, don't you?"

"I know." I felt her eyes on me and I looked over at her.

She frowned and nodded a little. "Alright. Well, you know where to find me. I'd like to think that you could trust me to believe whatever it is you're hiding, though. Just call me if you ever need me."

"Okay." I nodded and put my head on her shoulder.

"You really don't know that guy?" she asked.

"No, I don't know him." There was a certain edge to my voice as I uttered that statement. I'm sure she picked up on it, but she didn't say anything.

"Well, he's not really my type, but my God, he was gorgeous. Maybe a little too pale…anyways, he sure seemed a little taken with you. You know, I was watching you when you slipped. I thought for sure you'd crack your head open, but he came out of nowhere."

I nodded at her, looking away. "Yeah. I was really lucky, I guess."

She didn't say anything for a moment.

"What are you going to do if he comes back tomorrow night?" I raised my head to look at her. She raised her right brow.

I really couldn't tell her that I didn't think there would be a tomorrow for me, but I could see her point. She could see the fear, because I wasn't doing a damn thing to hide it.

"Look, you never miss. You never take any time off. Call in tomorrow. Vinny and Tony can have one of the part-timers come in. You've got a paper due on Monday anyway, right? Take a three-day weekend and catch up on some rest. I'll tell you if Adonis makes another appearance," she said.

"I'll think about it. But Debbie, don't call him that. He's not Adonis. I've met Adonis before, he doesn't compare at all to him." Fresh tears threatened to fall.

She gave me a critical look before she nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?"

_Oh, no._

"No, I'll be fine. I'm just gonna crawl into bed and sleep. Go ahead and go home. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon."

I walked with Debbie outside and stood in front of the alcove of my front door to watch her get in her car. I reassured her again that I was fine and that I'd call her tomorrow, and then I watched her leave.

I loved her, but she couldn't get the hell away from me fast enough.

As soon as the little red car was around the corner and out of sight, I lost it.

I ran into the house. I locked the doorknob and the deadbolt and I ran into the living room where I made sure the windows were locked. I flew into the kitchen and slammed down the window above the kitchen sink. I locked the back door to the porch and the one for the garage.

I was running for my life, sealing the house up, and shutting the lights off as I went. If I was going to die, and if the bastard had an ounce of mercy in him, he wouldn't give me the chance to run and he'd make it quick.

It was only after I had checked the bedroom windows and ran back to the living room, when I realized what I was doing. I had locked a vampire out of my house.

Locks never stopped Edward from ever getting in, and locks wouldn't stop this bloodsucker when he decided to kill me either. It was the only logical assumption, he had to kill me. The asshole knew my name, and he had to know I knew what he was. He could have easily followed me home.

I was crying hysterically and laughing at myself at the same time. Locking a vampire out. Where the hell had my mind gone?

My time with Edward and the Cullens hadn't been that long ago, but it had seemed I had partially succeeded in pushing thoughts of them away, to a point. I had to for my own peace of mind. And my heart needed a fucking break. But this...

There were times I wish my life would have just cease to exist, but I wasn't stupid enough to take my own life. Time with Jake had helped heal part of the wound that Edward had inflicted when he left. And as time went on, I managed to figure out that Edward left to keep me from being harmed by either himself or his family. His world was not safe for me, and that was something he had not lied about. It wasn't because he didn't love me that he left, it was because he wanted me to live the life I was supposed to have. He sacrificed his own happiness because he wasn't selfish enough to keep me for himself. Taking my life away - taking my soul, even though it was mine to give - wasn't up for negotiation.

He may have loved me with his whole, dead heart, but his beliefs outweighed his love.

Edward's words to me in the forest that day had been cold, and for a long time I believed I wasn't good enough for him. But I was good enough, and maybe at the time if I had realized that, I might have been able to try to convince him that our love for one another was worth the risk of damning us both to hell, if it even existed.

Maybe if I had been strong and assertive enough then, I wouldn't have let him leave so easily. Maybe if I had been that teenager who just believed in herself and believed she was good enough, I would have yelled and screamed at him for wanting to end it all.

Maybe if I had half the ounce of the strength I had at the ripe old age of twenty one, I would have told the dead son of a bitch to go fuck himself and enjoy living on earth forever alone when he once again would have said no. Because he would have said no again. I never had a choice.

I really didn't feel so strong right then, though.

I thought about them all, time and again. The Cullen's and The Pack. Maybe in just passing thought, but I thought about them a lot. Sometimes I cried and and felt sorry for myself for the very things I couldn't hold on to, and for the mistakes I made. I shouldn't have been so foolish to love Jake and not expect that someday he would imprint. That was my fuck up, and I was the only one paying the price.

This mystery bloodsucker's appearance was causing feelings and thoughts to resurface after I had worked so hard to just make an effort to move on. I hated it. I hated him. I hated all of them.

I wasn't sure how long I laid there, but a noise shook me out of my thoughts. My first instinct was to panic, thinking the vampire was coming to kill me and that he wasn't alone.

And that he drove a car…that sounded quite a lot like my truck.

I relaxed immediately when I heard Tony say something to Vinny. Although the words were inaudible, I could pick out his accent and tone anywhere. I stood up quietly from the floor and sat on the couch, grabbing a throw pillow to cling to.

I listened to Tony curse as he tripped over one of my pots of succulents by the doorway. He lifted one of the pots up and put the keys to the truck underneath it. I listened to his departing foot falls and heard a car door open and slam before they pulled out and away.

I sat there and waited. There was nothing to do but just wait for death to come knocking because the idiot human had locked the door and hopefully he wouldn't want to break it down. I waited, looking out the window and watching the sky begin to lighten. Exhaustion set in. I tried not to drift off, but of course I lost the battle.

I woke up alert when I heard the mailman pull up and put my mail in the mailbox.

Somewhere a car door slammed. Sunlight filtering in from the southern window told me it was around noon. The mailman always showed up around noon.

I was still alive, and very stiff from sleeping in one spot. I eventually pulled myself up off the couch to grab the phone off the cradle from its wall socket. I called work first while making a pot of coffee. Vinny was in and I told him I was sick and that I wouldn't be in that night. I had a bad case of dry throat from not drinking at all after I'd gotten home, and I suppose my crying jag hadn't helped either. My voice was very convincing.

I made a quick call to Debbie, waking her up in the process. We spoke for a few minutes and I reassured her once again that I was okay. We made plans to go out for lunch the next day after my late morning class was over.

If I was still alive. And I was. I was still alive. For the time being. I started thinking about why that was.

Last night when I fell, I saw his eyes. His real eyes. When the ugly brown had burned away and exposed the truth, bright burgundy had been their color. With James, Victoria, and Laurent, the only color that really registered with me was burgundy or black, and that made me think that perhaps he wasn't thirsty. Maybe he was just going to wait until he was thirsty before sinking his teeth into his next meal, which I still thought would be me.

One thing I knew was I would go mad just waiting for it to happen. At one point, I even deduced that maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would just move on, and someone else would spike his interest. But he had to kill me, didn't he? He knew my name, and that had been the most upsetting thing. His calm greeting. Spoken like it was something he said every day.

How the hell could he have been so calm after discovering a human was aware of what he was? He should have been shocked, maybe even angry. It wasn't rational.

And just how the hell did he know my name anyway? The only thing I could think of was perhaps he had been listening to Mandy speak about him, or maybe after my reaction at the bar he had heard Debbie or Tony utter my name. It was driving me crazy trying to figure it all out, and I finally surmised that I wouldn't.

After pouring a cup of coffee, I retrieved my English Composition and Rhetoric book. I also grabbed my notebook from my desk in the bedroom. I had a paper due the next day, and I was supposed to write a critical review for a recent film. My choice was Slum Dog Millionaire and I was only halfway done.

I needed to forget about it. I needed to forget about _him_. There was no point in worrying anymore about it because there wasn't a thing I could do. Maybe there was a small chance that he would just leave me be.

I was still a college student who was going into her third year, trying to obtain her Bachelor in Arts and Education degree, and who just so happened to have run into a vampire . A vampire who was probably going to kill her. But just for the chance that she might live after all, she better do her homework.

I unlocked the back door and went outside to the back porch, and I sat in my rocker so I could spread my papers out on the table. Opening the book with all my notes inside about the film, I went to work on finishing an assessment on the emotional impact and moral significance of the movie. It was going to be a half-assed assignment because I couldn't keep my mind focused on my work.

Stupid, fucking vampire.

I sat outside all afternoon and tried to get my assignment done. I only went in when I needed another cup of coffee or to go to the bathroom. What should have taken me an hour or two at most still wasn't done three hours later.

I couldn't help not thinking about it. I was completely shocked that I had found another one of their kind. Maybe if it had been a Cullen, I would have reacted differently, but probably not. When I first saw him standing at that table, I had surmised what he was. But when he caught me after my slip, that was when my mind really soaked up the details of it all. And now they were burned into my memory, and when I closed my eyes I could see it all. I could see _him_.

There was one thing I couldn't deny. He was indeed the most beautiful vampire I had ever seen. In every sense, Edward was beautiful, too. But this man couldn't be compared to Edward's youthful appearance, or to any of the other Cullen's for that matter - even Carlisle, who was handsome in his own way because he was older when he was changed. This vampire was older, too.

I could still remember his face.

He had a hint of a dimple between his eyes, slightly above on his forehead. It would probably become more pronounced if he scrunched up his eyes in confusion or in deep thought. His face was rounded but his jaw was defined. He had a strong chin. His nose was narrow along the bridge and angular toward the tip. His lips were plump but not too big. His hair was dark blond, but there were hints of gold in it from the lighting. He was pale, of course, and he was cold.

He had ensnared me in his arms. His hands had been on the exposed skin of my back and on my left arm. His left arm was around my shoulders and his right arm was securely around my waist. His grip had been firm, but not in an uncomfortable or painful way. It was almost...nice.

I had a sense of _déjà_ vu. I wasn't sure why it would have been familiar, since I had never met him before that night. It was probably just because he was a vampire. Cold, hard, and dead.

Other than his face, I never really got a great look at him. I knew he was tall, and very broad. He was well over six feet; and he wasn't that much shorter than Vern. I remembered feeling his arms with my hands. Muscular. Not too thin and not too big. He had a thick neck. His head wasn't too big and Debbie was right. he was just beautiful. There was physical maturity there. He must have been twenty-five, maybe thirty years old, when he was changed.

His eyes were the scary part, but they were also captivating. I felt fear because I knew he was a vampire who lived off the blood of humans, but they were so bright and so vivid. They weren't cruel eyes, they were kind; and there was something else I couldn't put my finger on. There was something in his eyes that made him almost...pure.

I was really fucking losing it.

But _this_ vampire's gaze had roused something in me. It was incapacitating, and weakening - much like Edward's was - but something even greater drew me to him and I couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe it was because I was in fear for my life, but it felt like something more.

This bloodsucker took dazzling to the extreme. I was attracted to and entranced by the predator in him, and my mind and body had both been affected.

Instead of sitting outside and finishing the last part of my assignment, which should have been my recommendation for that damn movie, I had managed to assess every aspect of being in that bastard's arms.

_While I would suggest that perhaps it would not be in your best interest to fall into the hands of a vampire, I would definitely recommend it. I give the feelings and emotions this bloodsucker creates four neon stars - the highest rating possible._

I stopped thinking about it, and him, and made it a point to finish my mediocre assignment. I was doing well in the class, so even if it wasn't my best work it wouldn't affect my grade too much.

By the time I finished, it was nearly six o'clock. The sun was hidden behind the clouds, making the air feel cooler. I went inside to find something to eat only after I realized my stomach was finally growling out of hunger and not the stirring feeling it had had since last night. Keeping it all out of my head took great effort on my part, and I could never go a minute without reflecting on some portion of it all.

The sun was going down and I was just still so tired and emotionally drained. I took a shower and went to bed after taking a couple Tylenol PM. It didn't even take me five minutes to fall asleep.

By the time I pulled into campus the next morning, nearly every close spot was filled, which meant I would need to run to class to be there on time. It took me ten minutes to drive over to the east side of town where the college was located, and I had only woken up thirty minutes beforehand. I have gotten used to the routine of staying up late at night and sleeping the mornings away, which usually meant that when I would try and sleep at night, I would only sleep around four or five hours.

Last night I had slept around eleven. I felt good, I was wide awake, and I looked like I did every morning. Hair up in a messy ponytail, and dressed in one of my favorite track suits. I was going walking after lunch with Debbie.

I had completed my required credits to receive my AA in Liberal Arts by the end of the Fall semester. To keep busy and get a jump start on the remaining credits needed for my Bachelor's degree, I had decided against taking an extra long break and enrolled in Spring courses. I was only taking two classes though, so I could work more and save up some extra cash before I dived into a what would be a very full, fall semester. English Comp and Rhetoric was one of my classes and the other was Child Psychology II.

At some point during the last year, I had decided there was a good chance I might not ever get married or have kids. I was pretty happy being single, and though I was quite confident I would be a good mom, I just didn't know if or when that would ever happen. I was still young and if I ever changed my mind than so be it, but for the time being, I decided that following in my mother's footsteps and teaching elementary school was a good way to go. Kids kept things simple, and simple was what I craved.

My Child Psychology class was mainly lecture, and I hid in the back of the auditorium. My note taking was non-existent, and I sat there thinking about the vampire. My English professor sprung a pop quiz on the class after we handed in our assignment, and I was thankful I had read through the chapter the quiz dealt with on Friday. After we completed the quiz we were free to go.

I called Debbie and she met me early at Los Amigos, a Mexican restaurant we ate at frequently. She looked tired and probably could have used a couple more hours of sleep. She was off that night, and she had plans with a guy she was seeing from Albuquerque.

"So, guess what we're doing when we're done eating?" she asked. We were seated at a little table for two in the bar, close to the cart with all the different flavors and spice levels of salsa.

"We're doing nothing. I'm going out to the pond so I can walk a few laps. You can come, if you want."

She grinned exaggeratedly and sung out, "Wrong again. You missed quite the night last night. We had three fights and somebody got stabbed outside. Vern and the boys were going nuts throwing out assholes left and right because it seems our outfits are sending the wrong message. Some jerk completely pulled Mandy's top down and grabbed her tits, not that she didn't ask for it. Vinny absolutely _hates_ the outfits. He doesn't want us looking like the trash that walks up and down Cerrillos, so starting tonight we get to wear our own clothes."

Vinny was more conservative than his brother. He was also forty-nine and older than Tony. He had salt and pepper hair and he was very handsome for a middle-aged, Italian man. He was also a great cook.

My mouth was full of refried beans when I said, "Oh, thank you, Vinny."

Debbie laughed. "Yeah, I know. So, come with me. I won't drag you around too much, but we have 'guidelines'. You know - black skirts or dresses that still show off our legs, and we still have to wear heels. As far as tops are concerned, and as long as it doesn't look like something you ripped out of your mom's closet, it's good enough to work in. But I don't own anything remotely classy, and you need to find a new pair of heels."

I stopped chewing to look at her. She had a sorrowful look on her face, along with half of a smile. It was obvious she was talking about my shoe, and she knew how much I loved them.

"Oh, you're shitting me. No one found it?"

"Nope, and that pair in your closet hurt your feet. So, come with me and we'll walk the mall."

"Alright, but just for a couple of hours. I've got housework to do and I still want to go to the park," I told her.

After lunch, we both decided to share a ball of Mexican fried ice cream drenched in honey. There was one question I wanted to ask her, but I was more afraid of answering the ones I knew she would have.

"Why don't you just spit it out?" she suddenly said.

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Why don't you just ask me if that hunk of a man was at the club last night? You're too easy to figure out sometimes, Bell."

I could never say Debbie wasn't perceptive. "Well, was he?"

She smirked before her face turned to one of disappointment. "No, not that I know of. We were busy, so it's possible I just didn't see him. None of the other girls mentioned anything, so I don't think so. You know, the chances of seeing him again are fifty-fifty. He might just show up again sometime. Have you given that any thought?"

I honestly didn't know what to think. Over the past day I had kind of gained some rationality back and thought maybe he wasn't a threat. Maybe he had decided to move on. He was nothing like the nomads I had come across back in Forks, that was for sure. He was clean, well dressed, and something just told me he was perhaps a little civilized. But I also wasn't sure entirely, not after what had happened.

"Yeah. Don't worry. I don't think he'll come back, but it's no big deal. Just…um…promise me something? If you do ever see him again, promise me you'll stay away from him."

She gave me a questioning look before she smiled. "Claiming him for yourself, Bella?"

I gave her a horrified look. She had it all wrong. "What! No! No. Definitely not. It's just…I know his type, Deb. He's not the type you want to get to know. He might be by all accounts beautiful beyond belief, but he's someone whose attention you don't want to attract. He's dangerous. Just promise me you'll stay away from him." I was desperate for her to understand and trust me without her needing to know why.

She sat there and stared at me with a curious look on her face. "You know, I would really like to bust that son of a bitch in the mouth for destroying your trust in men. At least give me his fucking number so I can call him and give him a piece of my mind," she said, irritated.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, no, we're not having this conversation again. Debbie, it's not that I don't trust men. I'm just not looking for anyone right now. I happen to like being single, so, chill. Besides, this has nothing to do with that. Nothing at all. I just think he's dangerous and I'm usually a great judge of character, so would you please just promise me you'll stay away from him?"

She was quiet for another moment while she continued to stare at me. "Okay, I promise. But are you sure you're not attracted to him? I mean, damn, Bella. He sure seemed smitten with you."

"God, would you get off of that? You're worse than Diane."

"Hey, I've never set you up, but I probably could. I just call it like I see it. There's something there, I think. Come on, admit it. You were attracted to him."

She wouldn't leave it alone. "Yeah, he was pretty handsome, but that doesn't mean shit. If he shows up again, I'm not going near him either. So, there, end of conversation. Let's go."

Shopping with Deb was easy enough. She wasn't a picky person. I managed to find one simple black dress that dipped low in the front, but wouldn't show off too much leg. It was classy. I picked out a couple different black skirts that hit just above the knee and a few nice blouses and shirts to go with them. I didn't have anything nice in my closet either.

As far as shoes were concerned, I would never find another pair like my wedges. I found a similar pair that didn't seem too bad, but they were not open toed like my previous pair. An hour and a half later, she dropped me off at my truck that I had left at the restaurant and I headed home.

With new clothes to hang up, I decided to clean out my closet. After I had a bag load of clothes to drop off at the thrift shop and a couple pairs of shoes I wouldn't wear anymore, I grabbed the bag and my one lonely shoe. I carried it all out to the garage and put the bag and shoes in the back seat of my truck. I couldn't very well send off one shoe to the thrift shop, so I went outside and threw it in the trash bin.

My night was uneventful and quiet. I spent most of the evening on the back porch reading a romance novel. I guess I had to get it somewhere, and at least in the books it always had a happy ending.

Tuesday was quiet and I just cleaned around the house and worked on my garden plot outside, getting it ready so I could plant tomatoes and peppers. I also read a chapter out of my book and finished an assignment for Child Psych.

Occasionally, I would think about the vampire. I didn't dwell or worry about whether or not my life was in danger. It seemed less and less likely. But I still thought about him.

Wednesday morning I had classes. After two boring lectures, I went home and did a little school work and watched some TV. I picked out one of my new black skirts and a red, cotton, short-sleeved top that had an oval cut-out in the back and buttoned up in the front. Work was at six, and I laid down at three to take a nap.

It was my normal routine, only I couldn't fall asleep so easily. I wondered what tonight would have in store and I wondered if I'd see him. No matter what I tried, I just couldn't get him completely out of my mind.

Wednesday evening was slow. It was ten o'clock and there were maybe a total of twenty-five people in the club the entire night. It was eighties night, and where we would usually be filled to the brim with the homosexual, lesbian, transgender, and cross dressing community of Northern New Mexico, there was nary a unique body around.

One of our regular customers had told me that one of the more popular drag queens who performed at another hot spot in Albuquerque had passed away from a heart attack the Friday before. That's where the majority of the usual crowd was, at a visitation service before the funeral the next day.

Even with two sections to work there wasn't enough work to go around. I hadn't even made twenty bucks in tips and I was more than halfway through my night.

Of course when I first arrived, and for the first two or three hours after starting my shift, I was a little on the edgy side, a little nervous. I was constantly looking around at the crowd, or I would watch when someone new walked through the door. But after a while I managed to relax and forget about it.

It was a little after midnight, and even though a few more bodies had made it in, they were mostly in the game room or sitting at the bar. The music was turned down low because the party atmosphere just wasn't there.

Vinny and Tony were both working, and soon enough Vinny had me drop my tray on the counter. Vinny was a little port and he just loved to dance, so when he first found out that I couldn't, he taught me. He _loved_ disco. We danced to Abba, and finally he twirled me around and dipped me to the Bee Gees' song, _Tragedy_. I didn't have the heart to tell him my feet were sore as hell.

I made a quick round of my section by the door after I finished dancing with Vinny. There were six people at a large table in my section who had been nursing beers for the past couple of hours, and I went and grabbed another round for them.

I was back up at the bar after delivering the beers and going through my till box, trading up some of my dollar bills, when Tony walked over. He was on the other side of the bar, bartending and helping out, because Diane had left early.

"Bella, somebody sat down at thirty-one while you were busy dancing with my brother. I haven't made it back there. Go see what he wants."

"Okay."

Table thirty-one was in the corner along the wall on the top tier. I took the stairs up, making a left while holding my tray against my waist.

Maybe if I had been looking straight ahead instead of at the floor I would have been able to prepare myself. The reason why I was looking at the floor was because someone had dumped peanut shells all over it. Instead, I only made it a point to lift my eyes when I was merely five feet away from the table. What a big, fucking mistake.

It was _him_. He had been standing up straighter as I approached, and he shifted on his feet.

I felt the blood leave my face and the rest of my body lock up. His red eyes were obscured by contacts again. I had figured out that that's what had hidden his eyes before and the venom had burned away at their chemical compound, causing them to disintegrate.

There was a slight, cautious smile on his face but his eyes were also wide. He almost looked nervous.

My heart stuttered, and then I could feel it pumping fast through my chest. I was beginning to panic and I didn't know what the fuck to do.

That was when he talked.

His voice was rich, and smooth. "Breathe, Bella. It'll be okay."

I managed to blink. But I forgot how to breathe.

He _was_ tall. Probably about six foot four or five. He was broad, well proportioned, and he looked nervous and excited. I gave him a good look over. He was dressed in a dark green long sleeve t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. My earlier assessment hadn't done him enough justice. He was absolutely beautiful and a magnificent looking vampire.

It didn't change the fact that he was here, though. It took a moment for my body and my mind to work together, to catch up. I was scared, but aggravated at the same time by his statement.

My blood began to boil and my face felt hot. It wasn't okay - it was far from it. And what was he referring to? _It'll be okay_. How the hell did he know it would be okay? It wasn't okay that he was here again and it wasn't okay he had taken a spot in my section.

He just stood there with his arm perched on the table, looking more confident by the second, and waited for my response.

Something he saw in my face broke his gaze and he looked down to the table. He looked like he was trying to hide a smile.

I wasn't going to give him a response to that statement, so I stuck to the business at hand. I decided to play it dumb for the moment. Why, I don't know.

"What do you want to drink?"

His eyes shot up and he smiled. "What do you think I should have?" he asked, grinning more.

I thought about it for a moment while I collected myself. My mouth was watering and my stomach was churning.

My voice was anything but strong, but his behavior just... pissed me off.

"We've got it all. How about a beer or a shot of Crown? Tequila? Of course, if you're a pussy, you can always go for a cocktail. Maybe a Fuzzy Navel? But you being a bloodsucker, you'll just throw up what I bring you anyway. I guess I could offer you the alternative, but I'm afraid we're all out of AB Positive. There's a little dive down the street, maybe you should go find something _there._"

He frowned and looked down to the floor before bringing his eyes back up to my face. He showed no emotion and spoke evenly. "So, you do know what I am."

It wasn't a question.

For a moment his demeanor shocked me. I realized that maybe my assumption that he was aware that I knew he was a vampire was perhaps wrong. I felt the blood drain from my face and it felt like my stomach would soon be emptying its contents. Had I been so foolish to think that he was an intellectual? Did I fuck up big time and give him the reason to kill me?

_Oh, shit. Oh, God! How could I have been so stupid?!_

He smiled, laughing short and quietly. "Relax, Bella. Your reaction the other night pretty much clued me in. That and the ugly mark you've got on your hand there. Humans might deduce it as just an odd-shaped scar from some type of a cut, but any of my kind would know exactly what _that_ is. And I'm not into AB Positive. I'm more of an O Positive or O Neg type of vampire. AB's always a little on the salty side and it's a little rare. I'm also far from being a pussy. So why don't you just bring me a shot of whiskey and we'll talk a little bit more when you get back. Your boss is watching you," he said with seriousness.

It took me a moment to absorb his words. I couldn't think through it quickly enough. There was nothing I could do but do as he said.

I turned around and slowly walked on two shaking legs back down to the bar. I was frightened beyond belief, but I was also pissed at the same time because of his smart-ass attitude.

That bastard was cocky. His response was also a little horrifying because he liked Type O.

My hands were shaking and I put my tray down on the bar. Kurt was waiting by the corner and looking out at the dance floor.

"Kurt, uh...can you give me a shot of Jack, please? Just put it on my tab and in a bar glass for me." The tremors wracking through me came out in my voice and Kurt gave me a strange look.

I smiled.

Kurt gave me the glass and I left my tray at the bar, opting to carry it instead so I had a better grip. I slowly made my way back up the staircase, glancing at the vampire in the corner.

He seemed calm and relaxed, and of course he would be. He had nothing to worry about. My pace picked up, and when I reached his table I put the glass down hard.

"Drink up." I tried to give him a challenging look.

The vampire who had been somewhat smiling looked warily at the glass. He brought his eyes up and gave me a questioning look. I returned it. I was well aware that it might have no taste for him, but I found a little comfort in knowing that he'd have to bring it back up later.

Memories, better left forgotten, were flooding my mind. But maybe it was an advantage at that point. I would cry about it later.

He gave me a somewhat indignant look before he looked back down at the glass with determination. He picked up the glass and drank the shot. I thought I heard him mutter 'fuck' before he actually shot it down. He sat the glass back on the table, hard.

"Thank you...Happy?"

"Yeah, I am. So what now? When are you going to kill me?" My voice was shaky.

He gave me a confused look. "Why would I kill you?"

I breathed out and my anger came to the surface. My voice was thick with emotion. "_Why_ would you? Because I know your secret. Because you have to protect yourself and your kind. Because it's in your nature. Because I smell so _fucking good_. I'm not fucking stupid. If you came back for your dinner, then fine. Kill me, but don't you dare kill any of the other people in this place, do you understand?"

He looked at me as though I was crazy.

Maybe I was on my way, but did it really matter? His eyes were locked on mine again and he pushed himself away from the wall, taking a couple of steps forward to close the distance between us. I wavered on my feet.

He spoke calmly. "Bella, I'm not gonna kill you or anyone else in this place, regardless of the fact that you know what I am. So you know. Big deal. Who'd believe you anyway? I might kill people, but it's only out of necessity to sustain myself. As for your scent, well..." he chuckled once silently, "it is..um, nice. and you do smell very good. At least..well. I wouldn't want to drink your blood, but.."

His eyes traveled down to between my legs. He smiled at me and it was almost devious.

He was flirting with me.

I didn't even know how to respond, but evidently he wasn't done talking.

"Whoever gave you that mark should get his or her ass kicked. I would imagine, though, that he or she is dead because you're still alive. They also seem to have given you the impression that all my kind kill everyone we come into contact with and who have no respect for our food chain. And the reason I'm here and in this place is because I happen to like it. I don't get out much, and I'm alone. And you? Well, you are very...interesting, but you seem a little puffed up about yourself," he said delicately.

_The nerve of him..._

I was processing everything he said while my gut churned. "You talk too much."

He took a step back and leaned down on the table, crossing his arms. He sighed. "I know. Like I said, I'm alone and I don't know anyone. But I'd like to get to know you, strictly for conversational purposes only. My intentions are honorable and I promise I won't bite. So, what do you say? Friends?"

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for my response.

A vampire who killed humans was asking me to be his friend. I couldn't process all of it fast enough and I felt mentally exhausted, frustrated, and I was still a little frightened. Why would I want to be his friend? Why would he want to be mine?

I remember at one time thinking I was a science project for Edward, and even though that wasn't the case then, it certainly could be applied to this situation. And why wouldn't I think that this was just some sick game he played to entertain himself before he took out his prey? James, Laurent, Victoria - they all played their games.

Animals sometimes like to play with their food and this bloodsucker was no different from them.

I pushed the fear aside and let my anger show. "No. There's no way in hell I'll play your sick, fucking game. You wanna kill me? Go ahead. But I'm nobody's goddamn form of entertainment. If you're not going to kill me, then _great_. But just stay the fuck away from me. You got that?"

I gave him no opportunity to respond or comment and I turned around and bolted as fast as I could without alarming any onlookers. I had to try like hell to keep myself from falling apart and breaking down, so I put on a fake smile as I made my way down to the bar.

Tony was there and he gave me a concerned look. Debbie was right. I couldn't act at all.

I grabbed a notepad and a pen off the counter top and went over to check on a big table on the other side of the bar. There was no way I'd remember a drink order. After scratching out the order, which only consisted of three drinks, I went back to the corner of the bar and told Kurt what I needed.

Looking straight ahead and out of the corner of my eye, I could see that he was leaving. He was walking slowly across the top tier towards the door. I didn't dare look. And I didn't.

Maybe I was overreacting to his request, maybe I wasn't. All I knew was that I didn't need a reminder of the place and the past that I had run from. If his intentions were honorable, and even if he was telling the truth, I didn't need to get burned again.

Edward and Jake had been everything to me, and Alice had been a friend - my _best_ friend - but she had left me, too, with no goodbye and with no communication as time had passed.

I didn't need to be a part of that world again, and I was sure it was just all a fucking game to him. I didn't need the bullshit. I didn't need anything at all.

The last hour and a half of the night dragged, and most of the small crowd was out the door between one and one-thirty.

I managed to calm down a little bit, but I just wanted to go home so I could throw a fit and maybe throw up. My stomach was in knots, but at least I managed to keep it together. We cleaned up what we could, and by two most of our work was done. Vinny told us to go ahead and leave at a quarter after.

I got my purse out of my locker and walked out the back. Dan, another one of the bouncers, was keeping watch as the other two waitresses and I walked to our cars. I was parked down on the end of the second row. As I got closer, I noticed a brown oblong box sitting on top of my hood by the windshield.

A shoe box.

I opened up the cab and threw my purse onto the console. I reached for the box, holding onto it while I jumped in the cab, and shut the door. My heart was racing and a feeling of dread came over me. I turned on the overhead map lights and opened the box.

Sitting in the box were my shoes. Both of them. My open toe wedges had been cleaned up and the leather polished. The satin on the insoles, which had come unglued and scrunched up over time, was stretched back out and glued down again. One small hole that I had worn into the satin on the right shoe had been patched up with a piece of satin and glued down. Both of the straps had been replaced on each shoe with leather that was not exactly as thick and grainy as the original leather on the shoes. It was softer than the leather on the vamp, but the pattern was almost a perfect match. The shorter straps on the outside of the wedges had been replaced too, with the same set of buckles that had come with the shoes.

_Oh, God._


	4. Chapter 3 Stupid Rich Vampires

Chapter 3. Stupid Rich Vampires

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

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***B*E*L*L*A***

Two weeks later, I stared down at the floor of my closet. Whenever it was time to put my shoes on to head into work, I would have the same, goddamn argument with myself. Ridiculous arguments, over a pair of fucking shoes.

_Wear them. They're comfortable. You've got a callous forming over that blister you had on your little toe last week. It'll just get thicker. _

_Don't wear them. If you put them on, he'll show up. Fuck the toe. _

The latter always won.

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since I'd found my shoes sitting on top of my truck. I took it as well as to be expected.

That night, after I got home, I threw the shoes in the closet. I went outside and walked into the tree line beside the house and waited, petrified with fear, angry, and bawling my eyes out all at the same time.

I went mental.

I had stood out there for a good hour because the only way he could have known I had thrown the other shoe in the garbage was if he had been here himself - watching me in broad daylight. And my attitude about the whole thing was simple. I wasn't going to play his sick cat and mouse game. If he was going to kill me, he was going to do it then.

Of course, that was just some of the irrational thinking going through my head at the time. I had stood out there for no reason at all because nothing happened. I never heard or saw anything. Or anyone.

The next day, I called in to work. The bastard entered my life and I had missed two days of work because of him. Or because I couldn't face going back in there and seeing him again after finding my shoes like that. It was extremely disturbing because I was obviously being stalked.

Tony and Vince suspected nothing. They honestly thought I had some sort of stomach bug. Either way, the vampire was causing a fuck up in my budget and it was so much easier to blame _him_ for it.

While I lived comfortably, I kept a strict budget for bills, food, gas…everything. The rest went into savings. Who knew? I could have a car wreck, or something, and not be able to work. Or I could be on the run and flying across the Atlantic from a sadistic, shoe-fixing vampire.

So many things went through my mind the next day. One of them was the conversation that had taken place. Before I had found my shoes, I had gone over his words to me and had found it a little bit humbling. I even found myself feeling a little guilty for the way I had treated him. While his response to my rude recommendation on what kind of drink I should have brought him was a little bit horrifying, I had to wonder if he was being completely serious or if he was just a vampire with a sick sense of humor.

That changed, though, once I found my shoes. I had yet to put them on and try them out. And I wouldn't because there was the chance he was still watching me, and if it was some sick game of his, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If it wasn't, and it was done out of kindness, he had still crossed a line.

It took a good week for me to start thinking about everything objectively. If he had been a human man, I would have treated the situation the same way. It would be just as disturbing to find out that some man I had happened to come across at work, and who I had rejected to go out with, was going through my garbage and having my shoes fixed. The fact that the man who had done this was a vampire made it even more disturbing because he drank blood. Human blood.

I knew he had to be joking. Blood type didn't play a factor. Did it?

I even gave him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe it _was_ a simple act of kindness. It didn't seem to make any sense that a vampire would have my shoes repaired just so my feet were comfortable while he sucked the blood out of me.

Five days after my shoes had ended up on the hood of my truck, I looked in the phone book for places in the area that repaired shoes. I wanted to track him down. There were two listings, and I called them both to see if they had had a pair of wedge heels in lately for repair. Nothing panned out. It wasn't some half-assed repair. To me it seemed like it had been professionally done.

Or done by a vampire who happened to know how to repair a pair of inexpensive wedges. A vampire whose name I still didn't know.

He had said that he didn't get out much and that he was alone. When I thought back on his words, his tone, and his demeanor, I had to wonder if he was indeed telling the truth. Maybe he _was_ alone and he had no one to talk to. Not interacting with other humans or vampires, it was a possibility that he just didn't think that what he had done was wrong in any way.

But it wouldn't change anything, even if there was a small chance this hadn't been a game. Because I just couldn't believe it would be feasible to be friends with a vampire who killed people. People like _me_.

I was his food source. It would be the same as being buddy-buddy with Richard Chase or Jeffrey Dahmer.

I couldn't wrap my head around it and I couldn't commit myself to something that would just eventually disappear anyway.

My first night back to work after that had happened was a shitty one. I was a bundle of nerves the entire night. I dropped my tray full of drinks twice. Debbie knew something was wrong and I didn't even know what to tell her, so I said nothing. I had avoided her phone calls that day before work and I kept to business while we were there. She managed to corner me when it was time for me to go home. She had stayed after she got off, and once again I got a speech about trusting her. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to tell her _everything_. But I wouldn't risk it and I wouldn't risk losing her.

He wasn't there that Friday night and he hadn't been back. It was two weeks later, and part of me hoped he had moved on. But I had to admit to myself that some small part of me hoped otherwise.

My mind was a conflicted mess. There wasn't a day that had passed since that night when I had stood in front of him that I didn't think about the vampire. I tried to blame it on being attracted to him. And my attraction was based purely on the physical attributes that attract any of his prey.

He was gorgeous. Intimidatingly so. Even without the dazzling.

But when I looked back to that night, the only moment he seemed at all intimidating was when he called me out on my comment about blood type. Other than when I first walked up to him, he had been cooler than a cucumber and not at all that uncomfortable. Maybe a little nervous, and even a little flirty.

It was Tuesday night and it was supposed to be my day off. I volunteered to work because Tony and Vinny were expecting a larger crowd due to a special cause. Tony and Vinny had distant relatives in L'Aquila, Italy, where there was an earthquake earlier in the month. They had spread the word and invited tons of friends and colleagues from other ventures in an effort to raise money to send relief, since some members of their family and friends had lost their homes and possessions.

While we weren't working for free, Debbie came up with the idea that as long as everyone was all for it, we could donate half our tips. We also told Tony we would wear his skimpy, little outfit to help out in the fund-raising efforts. He was elated.

I left my wedges in the back of the closet and walked out of the bedroom to drive to work.

By eleven o'clock that night, things were starting to wind down. All in all the night had been a real success. At eight o'clock, there had been almost two hundred people in the bar. The music covered all genres and the tips were real good. It helped, though, that the DJ and Tony were telling everyone to make sure to tip their waitresses generously because of what we had agreed to do.

Mandy had been the only one not too happy with the idea, but even she couldn't complain by ten o'clock. I was happy because it meant I only had three more hours of wearing that shitty little outfit. Old Italians were shoving their tips in my waistband or in my top throughout the night, but I played nice.

I was taking a little break up at the bar, eating cashews, while Debbie and Diane covered my section. Tony, Kurt, and Ron were working behind the bar when Mandy came up. Debbie was also there, after just delivering a tray full to both our sections. Mandy was standing on my left and I was sitting on a bar stool by the end of our counter. She called Tony's name and he came walking over.

"Tony, there's a guy in my section who said that if I could get my boss to okay it, he'd give me fifty bucks for one dance. Seeing as I'd give you half, what do you think?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Is your part of the floor caught up?"

"Yes," Mandy answered.

"Sure, I don't see a problem. Tell Vern what you're doing." Tony jutted his chin out to Vern, who was standing over by the door.

"Okay. Thanks!" Tony put her tray behind the counter and she scurried off. Debbie, who had been standing on Mandy's left side, moved over toward me after we exchanged eye rolls.

A minute later, after watching Mandy pocket some money and pull a guy up to the dance floor, Tony moved over to stand directly in front of the two us. He was behind the counter and he splayed his arms and hands out on top of the bar.

"You know, that's not a bad idea. Why don't the two of you go out there and see if you could sell a dance or two? You both are three times better looking than that ugly, little bitch. We could make some serious money."

We both answered at the same time.

"No way."

"Go to hell."

Tony looked hurt. "Why the fuck not? It's for a good cause."

I gave him a serious look and leaned forward so he would hear me and get my point. "Because, even if it was a hundred bucks, there is no way in hell you're going to get me out there dancing like _that._" I pointed to Mandy, who was currently grinding her ass up against some old, Italian fart's pecker, dancing to Shakira's _Hips Don't Lie_.

"Would you do it for five hundred and a slow dance?"

_Oh, shit._

I instantly froze when I heard that rich,smooth voice come up on my right side. I didn't need to turn around. I even felt him. My stomach dropped and there wasn't an ounce of skin on my body that wasn't tingling from how close he really was. I had still been looking at Tony, and he was looking at the man on my left with a surprised look.

"Are you serious?" Tony asked him. Tony's eyebrows were furrowed and he was looking at him strangely.

He answered seriously. "Completely. Five hundred for one dance with Bella. A slow dance. Not this shit," he mumbled out more quietly.

A large, strong, paler than normal hand shot out and placed five one hundred dollar bills on my tray, which was sitting in front of me.

I turned to look at him as he leaned on the bar. He was standing very close and his arm was just a sliver away from mine. I felt hot - whether it was because of fear or from being naturally attracted to him, I wasn't sure.

His face held a look of wariness and seriousness at the same time.

"Sold."

My head shot around to look at Tony in horror. "What?!"

Tony must have thought I was going to argue, and I probably would have if I had had my wits about me. He leaned forward with wide eyes and a pleading look on his face. He talked with clenched teeth. "Bella, it's five hundred bucks for a five minute dance! Think about the money! You don't even have to give me half, you can give me a couple hundred. Two hundred bucks can buy my cousin's kids some new clothes and some toys. Come on, sweetie, have a heart."

"But..."

Tony leaned forward even more, trying to be as quiet as possible. "This crazy asshole obviously likes you. You can give him the time of day for five minutes and five hundred bucks. Do it for the kids. Please?"

That son of a bitch.

My eyes shot back and forth between Tony and the vampire. Tony had no fucking idea what he was asking me to do. The vampire just stood next to me, smiling a little. But there was something wrong with his smile too, and I wasn't sure what it was.

It was one dance. It was five hundred bucks. And whether it was because of the guilt trip Tony was giving me or because I was compelled to, I gave the only response I could.

"Alright."

"Good girl," Tony said. He grabbed my tray and placed it under the counter and walked over to the phone. He picked it up and called the DJ booth.

I realized Debbie was still on my left, and I looked over at her with a look of horror. She was looking past me at the vampire's in awe, but then she looked at me immediately.

She leaned in and whispered frantically, "Bella, you look like you're gonna get sick. You want me to tell Tony and this guy to go get fucked? I will, you know."

I couldn't catch my breath and my heart was beating furiously. I swallowed hard. "No. I'll be okay. Just…um…just watch my section for me a little bit longer, okay?"

She nodded, looking worriedly between me and the vampire who stood beside me before walking off at a hurried pace. I turned around to face the bar and caught his reflection in the mirror on the back of the wall. He was looking down at me and leaning in closer.

I felt a hint of his cold breath by my ear as he spoke softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, Bella. Just give me one dance and listen to what I need to say to you. That's all I'm asking."

I turned my head to look up at him and he looked concerned. He was wearing a black cotton button up shirt with the collar and the top two buttons undone, exposing his neck. In fact, the contrast between the black shirt and his skin just made him look spectacular.

I scanned down the length of him quickly before bringing my eyes back up to his. He had on a pair of dark wash jeans and I thought he was wearing cowboy boots.

The shadows under his eyes were more prominent. Even with the contacts, his eyes seemed a little darker. My stomach churned and I turned back towards the bar.

"Bella, you need to calm down. You look like you're about to be sick," he implored.

"That's easy for _you_ to say. You've been following me. You...you took my shoe. You took the other one out of my garbage, for Christ's sake. You…you fixed them. Just what do you _expect_ me to think?" I stammered out in panic.

He audibly groaned and out of the corner of my eye I could see him take a step back. Tony walked over to grab a bottle of Schnapps from underneath the counter. At that moment, the vampire turned my seat to face him, grabbing my shaking left hand from atop the bar with his left one. He was cold. I looked at him, alarmed, and I even jumped.

"Come on, it's time to dance." There was an edge of seriousness in his voice and face. He pulled me out of the seat gently by my hand. My knees felt like they were going to buckle. He kept a hold of my hand and crossed it over my stomach and his other arm wrapped securely around my waist.

I gasped when I felt his cold fingers touch my bare skin by the waistband of my skirt, yet I felt like I was going to burst into flames. We walked slowly down the main walkway to the dance floor.

An old R&B song started to play as he guided me to the far corner of the floor by the door - away from the speakers and away from the crowd of people dancing on the floor.

I recognized the song as he let go of my left hand, and he grabbed my right hand in his left. He slid around to face me at the same time, while dragging his right hand across the skin of my lower back. He brought our joined hands to his chest, right where his heart was, and pulled me closer to him.

My left arm automatically moved to lie on top of his right arm and my hand came to rest on his bicep. The heat rose and I could feel that my face was on fire from being in such close proximity to him. It was a very intimate position to be in for just a friendly dance. I shuddered and kept my eyes on his chest as we slowly started to move. We swayed slowly side to side, turning slowly in a circle.

_Girl, I've been watching you_

_From so far across the floor now baby_

_That's nothing new_

_I've watched you so many times before now baby_

_I see that look in your eyes_

_And what it's telling me_

_And you know girl that I'm not shy_

_I'm glad you picked up on my telepathy now baby._

I lifted my eyes up to look at his and they looked so bright, even with the contacts to dull their natural color. He was smiling softly. I looked back down to his chest.

"Appropriate, don't you think?" he said first before he chuckled. I looked up at his face quickly while he continued to talk.

"Bella, I owe you an apology and an explanation. I picked up your shoe that night, meaning to give it to that bouncer. I could tell from your shoe that you liked wearing them, so I kept it - just so I could fix the strap for you. I was going to bring it back and leave it here, I swear. I, um…I felt guilty for scaring you. But at the same time..." He shook his head minutely and he seemed to struggle for words.

He looked at me with seriousness. "I followed you home that night and I uh, checked up on you. I was worried. I saw you throw the other one out and you looked...disappointed. So, I took your shoe out of your garbage - just so I could give them back to you as a gesture to show you I mean no harm. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frightened you even more, or make myself look like a fucking nut job."

_What can I do?_

_I can tell you got your pride now baby_

There was nothing but sincerity showing in his face. I was stunned speechless for a moment by both his statement and the way my body had chosen to react. My body had turned to mush. He held onto me tighter.

_Come to me, well, well_

_Let me ease your mind, oh baby_

He let out a little chuckle, smiling and exposing his perfect white teeth. "Come on. Talk to me."

I took a breath. "I am scared. If you were me, would you honestly expect me to believe that your intentions are as honorable as you say they are? You followed me to my _home_. You've been _watching_ me...You know, I almost gave you the benefit of the doubt before I found my shoes. And, while I do appreciate it, and I do like my shoes even more, you can surely understand why I still feel like I'm being hunted. Because basically what you did and are still doing is stalking me. The word takes on a whole new meaning for me because you're a vampire. You kill people. I am human."

He looked down and to the side with a look of regret on his face before lifting his face back up.

"If you like them even more, how come you're not wearing them?" He gave me a hurt look.

I looked away from his face and down to his chest.

"Why aren't you wearing them, Bella?" He moved his shoulder and lowered his head until I looked up and scowled at him. He pulled his head back. I looked over at my hand that was resting on his arm.

The fabric of his shirt was running between my fingers.

Damn him.

"Because it would have been an omen to have put them on. You've managed to stay away this long," I mumbled.

I expected him to laugh but I heard nothing. When I looked up, there was no emotion showing on his face.

"It takes more than a pair of shoes to keep me away, Bella." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Look, I meant what I said before. I'm not gonna hurt you and I don't wanna drink your blood."

I cringed.

He grimaced and continued, looking at me intently. He tilted his neck even more, which had brought his striking face closer to mine.

"But I do want to get to know you better. And not just for..conversational purposes only. I lied about that. I'm attracted to you, Bella, and not just physically. I'd like to get to know you, and I mean that. I've watched you and I can't help but want to know everything about you. You're beautiful and intelligent and...I can see there is so much more to you than meets the eye, and mine at that."

My heart was pounding. I had stared at him through his entire statement in shock because I couldn't believe what he was asking. His eyes just captivated me. Even through the muddy camouflage, they were intense.

"You're asking for the impossible. This can't... This isn't... It's impossible. I'm your food source. You kill people like me. Even if you're being completely honest, it would be like...it would be like the lion..." _Oh, God._"No. It's impossible."

We had been slowly drifting out of the corner and he quickly turned us around. My feet slid across the floor as he stepped us back to our corner.

"It's _not_ impossible. You've done it before," he said, somewhat aggravated.

I instantly froze and felt my face heat up - not out of embarrassment, but out of anger and panic.

"How do you _know_ that?" I whispered forcefully.

He looked at me warily and leveled me with a stare. "I've done a lot of thinking about this mark on your hand." He twitched the shoulder my hand was on.

"It's a bite, Bella. A vampire bit you and you're not dead. You weren't sucked dry and you didn't change, so what do you think that tells me? It tells me maybe someone who happened to be a vampire and who happened to care about whether you existed as a human or immortal made the choice to suck out the venom. You couldn't have done it yourself and no other human could have either. That person had to have cared a lot about you to do that. And maybe I'm just talking out of my ass, but I want to bet it was someone who loved you a lot, and someone you had loved back. What I'd like to know is why he bit you in the first place. Did he change his mind?"

I snapped. "He didn't bite me. Your kind did."

His eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration for a moment. I was pissed and I tried to pull myself out of his grasp. The arm that was snaked around my waist only held me tighter.

He asked calmly, "_My_ kind? What other kind is there?"

He looked away, but I could tell he was thinking about it. The thumb on the hand that was holding my hand against his chest began to stroke my fingertips.

I watched as his face changed to one of realization.

He looked back into my eyes. I didn't want to have this conversation. I had said too much and I just wanted to get the hell away from him.

He looked at me softly and spoke slowly and calmly. "I've heard about them – the...Cullen's and the ones that live up in Alaska. Was it them? Am I right?"

I didn't answer him. I didn't look at him either. But I'm sure my face was a dead giveaway.

He spoke to me more gently. "I don't mean to pry and make you sad or even angry, and I won't ask you anything more about what happened. I didn't mean to upset you. But what's so different between them and me?"

I swallowed hard. Memories I had repressed started to work their way back into my mind - James at the ballet studio; Laurent in the meadow; Victoria, her red hair fanned out in the water.

"If you've heard about them, then you should know the answer to that," I answered. My tone was hard.

He sighed and nodded. "They sustain themselves with animal blood and deny themselves what truly calls to them. I can't imagine the superior amount of control and discipline it takes to conquer the blood lust they must feel. It's very admirable," he said calmly and distinctly. He spoke with respect.

I swallowed hard. "Do…do you know them? Do you know the Cullen's?"

He looked at me and scrutinized my face. Before he answered, he looked away from my face and to the left. "No. I've just heard about them, that's all."

I remained silent, but I relaxed a little bit after a minute when I thought he would no longer push for information. I noticed a dull ache in my chest, a hint of the pain I once held in there. There were too many things coming to surface from this one dance.

He looked back down at me. "Listen. I'm a vampire. You know that. If I'm thirsty, I feed. Can you understand why it would be so much easier for me to resist the urge of biting into whoever comes along whose scent is especially appealing than those who do resist? I don't deny myself what I need. But, I also don't kill everyone who appeals to me. I've disciplined myself on who I choose. And I'm not cruel. Does the reason you find it impossible to have a relationship with me have to do with just my diet? Have _my kind_ taught you to believe that all of us are heartless, cold monsters who have no respect for human nature and the people we kill?" There was seriousness in his face.

I answered truthfully and calmly. "Yes. But there's more to it than that and I can't talk about it. It's not so much that I can't, it's just that I won't. Because it's a part of my life that I've tried to put behind me and it's something I don't like to even think about, let alone talk about. I find it difficult to be around you for a number of reasons, and your...diet is one of them. I won't lie to you about that."

He didn't say anything and he looked over my head. His eyes seemed distant. We were hardly moving anymore.

He spoke calmly and he did not look at me. "Is there anything I can do to convince you that I would never harm you? Is there anything at all I can do to earn your trust?"

He looked down at me, and I believe from the look on his face that he already knew my answer. I couldn't take the chance, no matter how appealing it was.

My heart had been broken by two men who happened to be from the mythological world - the only two men I had ever loved. And the person I had once considered my best friend left me and had never even looked me up. I could only see it happening again. But I realized tat that moment that it had nothing to do with his choice in diet anymore. It was about protecting my heart and the fact that I knew that I couldn't survive another heartbreak. Even if he was just a friend.

Vegetarian, man eater, or even human. I wouldn't chance it.

My throat constricted and a lump made itself known. "No. I'm so sorry, but I just can't."

_You'd just end up leaving me anyway._

He stopped moving. Those muddy brown eyes of his darkened and a moment later they were completely black. The light in them was gone. There was no emotion showing on his face.

"Don't be sorry. I'm sure you have every reason to feel the way you do," He said sort of detached. His lips twitched up in a fake grin before falling again and his arm around my waist fell.

He squeezed my hand that he held in his quickly before letting it go, and then he stepped back.

The physical contact with him was gone and I found out very quickly that I missed it. I missed it a lot.

He spoke formally. "I'm very sorry for putting you through this or making you feel uncomfortable in any way. I won't violate your privacy or your space again, I promise. And please don't worry, Bella. I won't kill you just because you denied my request, no matter how good you smell."

He smiled. It wasn't a carefree smile that would grace his face naturally.

He looked down at my feet with a concerned look and said, "You shouldn't wear narrow shoes like that, though. You'll ruin your toes."

His head shot up and he looked into my eyes. I couldn't decipher the look on his face. There was just no emotion at all. Nothing. My heart dropped and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face.

"Take care of yourself, Bella." He walked past me at a slow pace, brushing against my arm, and I turned around to watch him walk up all three levels and out the door.

I had heard those same parting words before, under different circumstances. My heart and stomach dropped simultaneously.

I realized I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I was afraid for _myself_. I was scared because I was too frightened to take a chance with something new. And it would be something new. Completely. It was completely dangerous and completely irrational, but when had I ever let that stop me?

He had only asked for the simplest of things, and I couldn't give it to him. The song had changed over and I found myself listening to the words very carefully, looking between the door and at the one person who could help me make sense of my own feelings. Debbie was walking across the floor and I think she even knew I wouldn't be holding anything back.

_I guess I just got lost_

_Being someone else_

_I tried to kill the pain_

_But nothing ever helped_

_I left myself behind_

_Somewhere along the way_

_Hoping to come back around to find myself someday_

**A/N: I sort of song fic'd this chapter out and I usually don't do that. The two songs I used were Gregory Abbott's Shake You Down and 3 Doors Down's Let Me Be Myself. Lyrics are found on public domains and this public domain is not for profit.**


	5. Chapter 4 Half Baked

Chapter 4. Half Baked

**A/N: Thanks for reading. The first part of this is in 3****rd**** P****POV. **

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Peter walked out the front door of the club. He headed north down the sidewalk as quickly as he could without drawing attention to himself. The massive weight he felt on his chest was making it difficult to breathe. He had expected her rejection but it didn't mean it didn't affect him. Seeing the pain of her past written all over her face was more upsetting than her saying no, and upsetting no matter what the outcome would be. He ached so badly for Bella and absolutely hated to see her so conflicted.

And at that moment he _really_ wanted to kill and dismember Edward and Jacob.

For now he had to walk away and that was proving to be very difficult. But in the long run, it would work out. He knew it. But he was conflicted because a small part of him was tired of this waiting bullshit. He had been waiting for a long time. Too Long.

His patience was starting to wear thin again.

Peter was in fact a very patient man. Perhaps more patient than anybody. But it didn't mean he didn't want to go back in there, throw Bella over his shoulder, and run faster than the wind.

She had looked incredibly beautiful in that scantily clad outfit, and he desired her more than ever. It had taken a great deal of concentration to keep his excitement level down, along with that certain appendage that had so desperately wanted to react when he had pulled her body flush against his.

Her skin had been so very soft and warm, just like he had recalled it. Her small hand had fit perfectly in his. She had been slightly uncomfortable when she first found herself in his arms, but that had changed quickly and she could not resist molding herself to Peter. That itself was so much better than the memory, so much better than the dream.

He was tired of waiting and he hated lying to Bella. He was half-tempted to skip around all the bullshit and just tell her everything and what her fate was, but he knew it wouldn't be bullshit to her and he would not upset her that way. It was going to be upsetting enough when she did find out. When she was _supposed_ to.

Peter needed to earn her trust and love before he told her his secrets. His love and respect for Bella demanded it. Plus, she would never believe him. Not now.

He reached the corner of the building and turned into the small alleyway. He sunk down along the wall and thought about going back. He knew he had to follow what he had come to know as his future. He had to trust the gift he had been given. Their future together depended on it. But even to this day it was hard to trust his gift and it was still extremely difficult to have _faith_ in it.

He sat there listening to the music and blinked furiously. The remainder of the film hiding his eyes disintegrated. He much preferred looking at Bella through his real eyes and not that clouded mess. He sifted through the voices in the building and found her. She was in the bathroom, crying, just as he knew she would be.

He hated it when she cried, but in a way he was relieved she was feeling guilty for rejecting him; and questioning her own resolve, which was breaking apart. But as much as Peter wanted that, he could not stand to see and hear the emotional turmoil involved in her getting there.

The seconds ticked on. He hated it. The more he listened, the more he lost that hold on his resolve.

The conflict in Peter to let things take their natural course came to an abrupt end and he made a quick decision. He decided he was going to go back in there. He would not cause her unnecessary pain.

That familiar feeling he's had a few times over the last twenty-one years made itself known. The lightest pressure, like a feathery touch of a soft hand, touched his right shoulder for just an absolute moment. But it wasn't just that. He shuddered when a blanket of cold air encapsulated him.

He always looked. And as always, no one was there.

It comforted and disturbed him at the same time. He would always have to remind himself to have faith; that there was a reason he had been given his gift. But even to this day, he would still question it from time to time. It was one of those times, but the pressure he had felt made him relax.

But there was pain and grief with it, too. He still took comfort from it and that quick, irrational resolve to disrupt the course that was set crumbled.

Peter sighed and stood up after a few minutes. Bella and Debbie were getting ready to leave and he would go home. He wouldn't listen to their conversation tonight. They would both be safe and he had to give the woman _some_ privacy.

He was thirsty but he would wait another day. He knew that Thursday night he would need to demonstrate some control around Bella. But just for the purpose of making sure he didn't make a mistake and bite that motherfucker's head off for talking to her like that, he would wait until tomorrow night.

He often questioned himself. And in turn, he was questioning his faith.

He was lost in his thoughts about Bella and he started to worry a little bit. She was about to go on a binge with Debbie and Bella would pay for it in the morning. It was times like these when he could go without remembering _that_.

But he was satisfied knowing that tonight Debbie would take care of Bella and give her a few things to think about. Debbie herself was about to find out about a whole new realm of life and existence on this earth, and she would believe Bella. Debbie was open-minded and she would use caution with the information she was given.

Peter walked down the street to his truck, smiling because he knew that in a few days Bella would be in the seat beside him. He couldn't wait to hold her soft, warm hand again. And he beamed to himself when he thought about the time they would spend together; even if the night would include some ugly truths. He couldn't wait, but he would. He had been waiting almost eighteen years. A few more days wouldn't hurt. 

***B*E*L*L*A***

"Do you want Half Baked or Phish Food?"

Debbie opened the glass door to the freezer. I was busy trying to pick out a couple of not so old-looking hot dogs from the rack.

"Half Baked," I answered, taking two buns out of the bun warmer. Debbie took two containers out from the Ben and Jerry's shelf inside the freezer and walked past the checkout counter, sitting them down. She went over to the other side of the warming rack.

"Put chili on one of those. You want taquitos, right?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Pepper Jack or Barbecue Chicken?" She grabbed the plastic tongs off of the rack, grimacing at the taquitos. I felt the same way about her hot dogs. One of them looked like it had been rotating on the rack for hours.

"Pepper Jack, and throw in a couple of packages of that hot sauce by the bags."

"You want two?"

"Four."

I saw Debbie's eyes bulge out of her head for a moment before she laughed to herself.

I finished putting on some of the squeeze chili from the machine on one of her hot dogs. That was some nasty-looking shit.

It was twelve-thirty in the morning. Tony had let us leave early since we were both working on one of our days off, and I had been bawling my eyes out in the back for the past twenty minutes before we had left anyway. We stopped at the QuikMart just south of the freeway, close to home.

Shitty conversations called for shitty food that would set my intestines on fire, but it was still all so good.

I finished with her hot dogs and went to the soda fountain. I filled up a couple thirty two ounce cups of Coke with crushed ice and met her at the checkout counter. The lady behind the counter gave me a pitiful smile as she started to ring everything up. My eyes were swollen and my skin was probably blotchy.

"Shit, I forgot the pork rinds. I'll be back," Debbie said.

"Get the hot and spicy ones," I told her.

"You'll pay for it in the morning!" she yelled out, making her way down the aisle where all the chips were.

"I don't care."

We went back to my house and I gave Debbie a pair of old sweats and a large t-shirt to change into. She was going to stay with me for the rest of the night. While I was changing, Debbie went to heat up my taquitos and her hot dogs in the microwave. I grabbed a towel out of the storage cabinet in the bathroom and laid it out across my bed.

I crisscrossed my legs and put my pop in between them, opening the bag of pork rinds. Debbie came in and sat across from me toward the foot of the bed. She had already swallowed down half a hot dog on her way back from the kitchen.

"So what kind of story are you going to tell me tonight?" she asked.

"The truth. The whole truth, no matter how fucked up you might find me and it to be," I told her gravely. "And Debbie, you can never tell anyone."

A solemn look graced her features. "I won't. I promise."

I knew she would keep it.

I told Debbie everything because I couldn't hold it back anymore and I needed someone to tell me I wasn't going out of my mind. I had left Forks to move on with my life and to get away from the mythological world and the creatures that were a part of it; because all it had done was break my heart.

There was no escaping it; no matter how few vampires existed, I was sure as hell destined to run into another one at some point in my life. Who the hell was I trying to kid? I knew what to look for. I had seen too much and experienced a life like no one else had.

But this situation was still new territory for me and this was about someone entirely new and different. It was almost as if he was a combination of the two people I had loved the most, but he was also his own person.

I told her everything. Well, almost everything. I stopped when she had questions, and I answered everything with the truth. I told her how I had come to move to Forks and how I first met Edward. I told her how and why I fell in love with him. By the time I finished telling her what had happened at the ballet studio, her face had turned three different shades of white and green.

There was disbelief of course. I had already accepted that there was no way in hell that she would believe what I was telling her at first. There was no way of getting around it. But that all changed when I showed her the only physical proof I had that vampires existed.

She had seen my hand before, but this time she held it between both of hers and she rubbed the scar with her fingers. She felt its coolness and she studied the texture. She sat there for almost a whole minute in silence before she finally got up in a rush and headed to the bathroom. She threw up her first hot dog and half of her pop.

It endeared me to her even more, knowing she cared so much.

When she came back to the bed she told me to go on, even though she didn't look like she wanted to hear anymore. I told her about my time with Edward and the Cullen's during that summer that was now almost four years ago. I explained what happened on my eighteenth birthday and what happened three days later by the edge of the forest.

She stopped me when I was about to tell her about the following months after Edward and the Cullen's' departure.

"Who do you think it was? I mean, if it wasn't Edward, it had to have been one of the Cullen's One of them had to have carried you out of there." Debbie said.

"I don't know. I was completely out of it and it happened so quickly. I thought at first it was Edward. I thought maybe he had come back for me. But it wasn't him. I don't know how I know that but he just _felt_ different. And it was too dark - I couldn't see anything."

Debbie was lying down on her side with her hand propping up her head. She started to sit up. "Well, it had to be one of the Cullen's Maybe he lied, maybe they hadn't all left yet."

"I don't know," I mumbled.

If there was anything I remembered about that night after Edward left, it was how I had felt for those few seconds in the arms of the other vampire. I knew two things - I knew it had been a 'he' and I knew it hadn't been Edward, Emmett, or even Carlisle. The odds that it had been Jasper were great, but I had given that possibility some thought. The vampire had held me very close, and he was keeping my head pinned on his shoulder so I couldn't look at him. He had also been very careful.

For one moment that horrible night, I had felt comforted. I had felt like I wasn't alone. I soaked up the coolness of his body, even when I was already cold to begin with.

"It doesn't matter now who it was. There's more to tell, Deb."

I told her about the four months I walked around comatose. I told her about Jake and how he helped pull me out of it all. I even told her about hearing Edward's voice, but I didn't go into specifics. By the time I finished telling Debbie about Laurent and the wolves in the meadow, about Jake, the pack, jumping off the cliff, and Victoria, she looked like she was ready to throw up again. I thought that fucking chili was killing her.

My relationship with Jake and the real reason for its demise left her in another state of shock. Telling her how I made my way down to Santa Fe brought on the tears, for both of us. It was a quarter to five in the morning when we finally cleaned up the mess of empty ice cream cartons, cups, and wrappers.

We took a couple of blankets and went out to the back porch. I started a fire while she sat down in the wicker rocker, and then I stretched out on the love seat. She had already heard everything I knew about the vampire whose name I still didn't know. She had guessed at what he was, and I told her everything that had been said and done. I was crying over a vampire who had no name.

It was very quiet outside with the exception of the occasional bird whistle coming from the trees. She spoke quietly. "You're something else. You've run into him three times now, yet you've still managed to forget to ask that one little question. I'm disappointed in you, Bella. You of all people should at least get your potential killer's name," she teased.

"Quit teasing and tell me what you think. Tell me what _you_ would do," I implored, looking at her. The firelight was the only light and I couldn't see her facial expressions very well.

"Okay, but keep in mind I'm still...soaking this all in. The sane choice would be to pack your shit and run for your fucking life. You should have done that years ago." She paused. "But when it comes to love and romance, I've always been far from being sane." She smiled.

"What should I do?" I asked.

She was silent for a moment before she slowly came to a stop in the rocking chair. Her face seemed critical. "Let me ask you a question first. Are you sure you're over Edward?"

I was surprised by the question. "Of course I am. As over him as I'm going to get. Why?"

Debbie started to rock again and quietly said, "Because I think there's some small part of you that still wishes he'd come back. You may have left Forks to 'get away from it all', but have you ever really stopped looking for them, or him? It really explains a lot about you."

"What do you mean?"

Her voice was just above a whisper. "I've known you for a while now, and now that you've told me everything, it explains your mannerisms. When I first met you, I thought you were on something." She laughed. "You were constantly watching your back. Skittish, even. You're still like that, but you've mellowed out a little. You're always...looking for something...something or someone that isn't there. You're aware of every single person you come into contact with and it's like you constantly got your guard up, expecting the worse. But it's understandable. You've been through so much."

She left no room for a response, and I could see in the firelight that she was smiling. "This was the closest I've ever seen you get to a man. Even Diane noticed it. You know, with all four of the first and _only_ dates you've been on with the men she's set you up with, she's always somewhat thought that you put yourself on a pedestal. But now I know it's not you who's up there. I think you've put Edward on top of the goddamn thing and no one has ever measured up."

I didn't think that was true. "So what are you saying? Are you saying that you think I'm incapable of being with and loving a normal human man?"

She shook her head several times back and forth. "No, honey, no. You haven't looked for anyone, and the men Diane set you up with would have bored me to death, too. There takes a certain amount of assertiveness and strength to love women like me and you, and they simply didn't have it." She laughed. "But this one, he's got it. And tonight…well, you sure as hell looked like you were enjoying it for a few moments from where we stood."

Debbie started laughing when she spoke again. "Hell, you couldn't even walk down to the dance floor without his help."

"It's not funny."

The smile was still there and she firmly said, "Yes, it is. Anyways, back to what I was saying before...you've been waiting for the moment when Edward or one of them would come walking back into your life. The thing is, though, when it finally happened, it wasn't who or what you expected. You reacted naturally to what experience has taught you, to what others have influenced you to believe, and that's that all red-eyed vampires are out for one thing and one thing only, to kill you. I don't think..I don't think this guy is playing a game. I think he likes you, a lot. I think he's looking for that special someone."

"And..?" I prodded. It was disturbing to hear but she was right. She was _so_ right.

"Listen, did you even take into account why...Victoria was so hell bent on killing you? Her mate was dead, Bella. Edward and the Cullen's killed him. Yeah, sure, maybe the bitch was psycho and she went after the wrong person, but my point is she had to have loved James like no other. She had a heart. Losing James just drove her mad." She shrugged her shoulders.

She had a heart alright, a fucking cold one.

"But James chased me all the way to Phoenix. He wouldn't have given up until I was dead. It was a game to him. He made his choice and it got him killed. He got what was coming to him. She shouldn't have taken it out on me or anyone else for that matter. I know what you're saying, but I can't sympathize."

Debbie sighed. "It was a game to him because humans - to them - only served one purpose. They had no respect for human life. But are we as a race any different? People are murdered daily over the simplest of things by other people. Children are molested all the time by their teachers, parents, and siblings. We can be just as sick and demented as the vampires who tried to kill you. Can you see the point I'm trying to make?"

I didn't answer, but she was right. We as a race were really no different. We could inflict just as much pain as a vampire could.

"My point is, there is still good in most everything and everyone. They don't necessarily need to have topaz-colored eyes. Just because Edward broke your heart and Jacob's love floated...or whatever the fuck it did…well, it doesn't mean every man _or_ vampire will," she ended quietly.

I had to wonder if my eyes were ever going to dry up. Tonight I had finally grasped that he could be trusted, at least when it came to killing me outright. My heart was another matter.

"God, Debbie. What am I going to do?"

"Do you want to see him again? Do you want to give it a chance?"

"I think I do. But, I'm scared," I answered.

Debbie didn't say anything for a moment.

"You wouldn't be sane if you weren't. Hopefully he'll decide that he wants to see you again and will want to try to change your mind one last time. If he does, then be honest with him. If he doesn't, and if you never see him again, then you need to move on. There are plenty of good men out there who would love you until their dying day. You just have to look."

I stifled a sob. "He won't. He said he promised he wouldn't violate my space or my privacy again."

"Maybe he's a liar. Just hope, honey."

I lay there too tired to think clearly, but my mind was wandering over our conversation and his face before he left.

All of a sudden Debbie chuckled softly. "God, you're kind of a cold bitch."

"Where the hell did that come from?" I asked defensively.

Debbie stopped rocking. She held up both her palms in a cautioning manner. "Okay, well, most people - and I'm including you in this - would find it disturbing that a guy's stealing their shoes from garbage cans and fixing the cheap pieces of shit. But...God, Bella!"

Debbie leaned forward in her chair. The look on her face was full of astonishment and compassion. "He fixed your _shoes_. Do you have any idea how sweet that is? Yeah, okay, it's a wee bit disturbing and out of the ordinary from what any other guy in this day and age would do - but yeah, that was just so sweet."

She sighed audibly. "The poor bastard was worried about your _feet_. That's so..._wow_." She was smiling and she had a sappy look on her face.

"For some reason, I don't think he's a poor bastard, Debbie. He chunked out five hundred bucks for a dance."

She leaned forward in her chair again to emphasize her point. "He chunked out five hundred for a dance and got shot down by you in the process."

I groaned. "Thanks for the reminder. Whose team are you on anyways?"

She was quiet but she sounded excited. The knowledge she now had of an entirely different world had left her in a state of awe all night, and she would probably feel that way for a long time.

"I'm on yours, but I like him. I would die to have a man look at me the way he looked at you."

It was quiet for a few minutes and my eyes were growing heavy. The fire had died down and the black sky was starting to lighten.

"Let's go to bed," I told her.

"You expect me to sleep now?" Debbie asked.

We walked back into the house after I reminded her we both had to work the next night. I was exhausted, mentally and physically, and I felt awful. Mainly because everything she had said was right.

Even though I had left Forks and had worked hard to achieve a sense of normalcy, I didn't want to give my heart to another; human, werewolf, or vampire. Life was about taking chances and I had avoided taking any. Maybe it was time to try. Maybe it was time after all to release that sliver of hope that I had held onto and let my future take me wherever it would. The only question was, would I?

I had to. Edward was never coming back and I always knew it, I just hadn't wanted to accept it completely.

Debbie lowered the blinds on the windows as I pulled the sheet and covers back. We had just gotten into bed and settled in when she asked a question.

"Bella, do you remember when we watched Transformers?"

Debbie loved science fiction and action movies and had dragged me along to watch it with her when it had first come out. "Yeah?"

"Remember when Bumblebee transformed into the Camaro and that guy told Megan Fox that Bumblebee wanted them to get into the car and she hesitated? He told her, 'Fifty years from now, when you're looking back at your life, don't you want to be able to say you had enough guts to get into the car?' Do you remember that?" she asked quietly.

"Vaguely. Why do you ask?"

She took a few seconds to respond. "If he comes back, get in the car again and have some faith that he'll be a good driver. I loved that movie." She yawned out.

I had to laugh. I knew what she was getting at, but I couldn't help but think that the odds that a vampire didn't drive like a lunatic were next to nil. The ones I knew did.

Maybe he didn't even drive. I started to think about things I had noticed about him. He was always well-kept. He was a little crass, but it was kind of a good quality. He was confident; almost too much so. He had manners. He seemed like a gentleman. And though his true eyes had been a little scary, there was something about them. They weren't cruel. He talked a lot. Maybe his gift for gab was a result of being alone with no one to talk to. Maybe it was because he was so confident; maybe he didn't dwell so much on being a monster. Maybe he was happy just the way he was.

I smiled again after thinking about what Debbie had said about fixing my shoes and about what he had said about the ones I was wearing last night. _He was worried about my feet._

I felt better. I hoped that I would see him again, and I thought about what I would say if I did.

Debbie started to snore a little a couple of minutes later. I knew I could trust her. I knew she would never tell another person about the things she was told. She was my best friend, but I had really never labeled her that before. I loved her.

My thoughts drifted back to the vampire and about dancing with him last night. He was cold and hard, just like Edward was, but there was something so unique about the way my body seemed to respond to him, something better than the electric current I had felt with Edward. He was intoxicating and mesmerizing, but there was some sort of pull towards him that I couldn't identify.

I wanted to feel it again.

Debbie woke up at twelve-thirty that afternoon and we talked a little bit more over coffee. She left a little after one-thirty when she had to evacuate the premises, laughing her ass off. After two cups of coffee and my morning binge on taquitoes and spicy pork rinds, I experienced a bout of stomach cramps and spent a good 20 minutes in the bathroom swearing that I would never eat again.

It was also while I was sitting there in the bathroom that I realized I had completely forgotten I had classes that morning. I had already failed to turn in three different assignments, and I was behind in reading chapters, and I failed one psychology quiz. I made the decision right then and there to drop school for the rest of the spring. I was only taking them to get ahead before I started at the university this fall and I could save my grade point if I dropped now.

I kept myself busy for the rest of the afternoon by going down to the Resource Office. I went home afterward and did a load of laundry. My mind was focused on that night and hoping he would come back to the club. I was also thinking about what I would say to him if he did show up.

When it came time to get ready for work, I dressed in one of my black skirts and my red top that buttoned up. I grabbed my wedges from the back of the closet. I was a bundle of nerves. I was nervous, excited, and also a little afraid. Mostly I was afraid he would keep his word and stay away.

We were very busy that night. The gay community was out in full force and time passed quickly. Every time I'd wait for my load at the bar I would scan the back wall, the corners, even the front door. I never saw him. My heart was constantly stopping and restarting when I would catch a hint of someone out of the corner of my eye who was tall with brownish blond hair.

It was close to two in the morning and I had had hardly any time to talk with Debbie. She had been keeping a lookout too. We had communicated through looks, and most of the time she looked at me with compassion. She was up at the bar when I finally arrived with my last order for the night.

"He didn't come."

She smiled at me sadly. "Don't let it get you down. Give it some time. He didn't reappear for two weeks after you found your shoes, so...just give it some time. Maybe he had something else to do, or maybe he had to..."

"Don't finish that sentence."

She frowned. "That's the reality of the matter, Bella. You thought he looked thirsty last night. Granted, I don't know how they go about this thing, but it's something you need to accept if you want do this. Don't get discouraged so quickly. He'll come, I'm sure of it. He didn't seem like the type who would give up so quickly. Just be optimistic."

"That's easier said than done." My throat closed off and I choked back my emotion.

She groaned and looked worried. She kissed my forehead quickly and went off to serve her last round.

I went home tired that night. I opted to go to bed instead of making something to eat or sitting outside; and I tossed around for a good hour.

There was nothing I could do. And the more I thought about everything, the more I cursed myself for being so judgmental to begin with. He had promised that he wouldn't interfere again and those eyes of his did not contradict his statement. Maybe it was foolish to hope that he would.


	6. Chapter 5 Deja Vu

Chapter Five. Déjà Vu

**A/N: Thanks for reading.**

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***B*E*L*L*A***

Thursday morning I woke up to the loud, irritating ring of the phone. Charlie was concerned because I had failed to return his call from last week. I apologized and he went into his usual routine of informing me about the gossip in Forks. Jessica Stanley and Mike Newton were on break from Washington State University and back in Forks for the upcoming summer. Evidently they had gotten engaged.

Charlie always kept our conversations short. He was well aware of where I worked and it made him nervous. It was understandable; no father wanted his daughter working in a bar. Whenever he asked how things were going, I would talk about school or things I needed to fix around the house. He would talk about fishing, or Sue, Seth, and Leah, and what they were up to.

Seth was home, and Charlie was making him cook breakfast for his mother. The high school in La Push was closed due to a water main break and after a few minutes he took the phone from Charlie.

We had a conversation about school, college, New Mexico, Forks, and La Push. It was a little disconcerting at first, but I was soon enjoying the stories he told me about some of his friends from school, his sister, and of course the pack. Charlie must have still been close by because he didn't delve into what the actual pack was up to, so we mostly spoke about him attending college in the fall and what he could expect.

After a half hour on the phone with Seth and enjoying my talk with him, I mentioned how nice it would be to see him. There was a pause before he finally asked, _'Do you mean that, Bella?'_ It took me a moment to respond. He was the closest thing to a sibling that I would ever have, and I had always liked Seth. We were family now. He even called me his sister. I knew it would make Charlie and Sue happy if I invited him down, so I did.

The conversation changed and we were soon immersed in plans for him to visit over the summer. We talked about what there was to do in Santa Fe and I brought up the idea of taking a road trip. Juarez, Mexico wasn't too far away and we could take a trip down to the border, see the scenery, and experience a little Southwest culture. I was overdue for a real vacation and it would be the perfect opportunity to take a few days off. Charlie sounded happy when he took the phone back and said they would call later after they checked into flights. I offered to pay for Seth's ticket, but Charlie wouldn't have it. He said they were going to send the kid somewhere and give him some money for his graduation gift anyway.

Knowing Charlie, he was probably just happy and thrilled that I was stepping outside the norm and making an effort not to be such a closet case. They called back at two o'clock to say that Seth would be flying into Santa Fe in June.

I cleaned my kitchen and my bathroom, vacuumed the carpets in the living room and bedroom, and tended to my little herb garden in the kitchen window. But nothing was helping. My mind was on the vampire constantly. What was he doing, and where was he? Would he come back?

I laid down on the couch and tried to watch the first two recorded episodes of The Deadliest Catch. At some point during the first episode, I fell asleep. The next thing I knew it was five thirty in the evening and I went into panic mode. I was going to be late.

I jumped in the shower, washed my hair, and gave a quick shave to my legs and underarms as fast as I could. I didn't have time to do my hair, so I threw it up in a messy ponytail. I threw on a black, tank slip dress, strapped on my wedges and ran out the door.

By the time I reached the parking lot behind the club there wasn't a space to be found, so I headed through the alley. The closest spot I found was along Cerrillos, three blocks north of the bar. It was not going to be a good night and I ran into work four minutes late.

The crowd that night was large, and I didn't have time to scan the crowd as much as I would have liked to. Kurt was sick and had stayed home. That left the bar short staffed so I tended bar. Debbie and Diane were both working and they had to cover the floor by themselves. There was a semi-professional rodeo in town and people had filtered in after it had ended.

The bar was filled with obnoxious people and nobody seemed to be getting along, but I still enjoyed the night for the most part. I filled Debbie and Diane's order and waited on walk ups, and many of those walk ups had walked into the bar drunk already. Cowboys and their rides from the rodeo. Out of town folk. It was nights like this that we all hated. Vern and the other bouncers stayed busy breaking up altercations with the locals, while the rest of us dealt with shitty, impatient, assholes who couldn't wait their turn. It was loud, and it wasn't just because of the music. After midnight there had been one particularly loud group down on the first tier. All cowboys, hootin' and hollerin' and giving Diane and some other women a hard time.

By one-thirty in the morning only little of the crowd had filtered out, so Tony had the DJ announce last call because it was taking time to fill the orders. With just Diane and Debbie on the floor, it would take a while to traverse every table and those who were standing. Vern and one of the other bouncers were busy with a couple they threw out and there was someone hollering from the first tier for their goddamn waitress.

"Oh, God, I so don't want to fucking go back down there," Diane said disgustedly while I was busy loading up her tray. She kind of looked like she was on the verge of crying. The night had been really rough.

"What's the matter?"

"There are three riders down there from that rodeo. They started out okay, but they're pretty drunk now and my fucking patience has met its end."

I finished up her tray with three bottles of Bud. Tony was in the bar helping Ron out, and my side was caught up. "I'll go take care of it. We're caught up here."

"Thanks, Bella, but don't say I didn't warn you. They're all cowboy and they're being pretty rank!" Diane yelled out as she left the bar.

I walked through the small door and headed down to the first tier. Close to the back of the wall was a table that sat four people. There were three men sitting there. The one on the right was wearing a red and white block western shirt with a tan hat. His blue dingy jeans were very tight and he had his legs spread wide open in the seat.

He was sporting the worst case of camel toe that I've seen in a long time, and from the looks of it there wasn't much going on in _that_ department. He had a very large and shiny belt buckle to make up for his shortcomings. He was tall and very skinny. The other two sitting to his left were twins and they were both sporting matching black hats, denim long sleeve shirts, and blue jeans. They had their seats pushed back from the table and one of them was slouching in the chair terribly. Even from twenty feet away I could tell they were all pretty drunk.

There wasn't a female in the vicinity; nor was there anyone sitting at the table next to them. I walked down the aisle and caught their collective eye immediately. A wolf whistle and some hums and moans of appreciation started up before I had even reached their table.

I sighed because I knew what was coming. Why the hell did I volunteer myself?

I came to a stop in front of their table and the cowboy on my far left had his mouth open and looked like he was getting ready to drool all over himself. Drunk cowboys never did anything for my self esteem.

I played nice. "Hi. What can I get you gentleman?"

Camel Toe responded in a thick, southern accent with a fucked up smile on his face. "Wha...What'd you say? I'm sorry... I think I'm cunt-struck right now."

The twin on the far left had swigged down the rest of his bottle of beer during Camel Toe's response. He abruptly spit it out and snorted at the same time.

The one in the middle hooted with laughter. "God, yes, sweetheart. Were you born on a farm? 'Cause you sure know how to raise a cock."

That was only the eighth time tonight that line had been uttered. Cowboys only used cowboy pick-up lines. I blew it off for the most part. "Yeah, yeah, that's last year's line. C'mon, guys, it's late and it's last call. Do you need anything or not?"

"Well, sweetheart, what I need is for you to get down on your knees and smile like a donut. You…You've even got a handle for me on your pretty head," Camel Toe responded.

He proceeded to pretend to 'grab on' and guide his make believe girlfriend up and down on his teeny, little dick. I noticed he had a wedding band on his left ring finger. All three began to cackle and double over immediately.

"Alright. You're all done. Have a good night."

Where the hell was Vern?

"Aw, bitch, we ain't done. Bring us another round, whore," Camel Toe said loudly as I began to walk away. I stopped and turned around. That pissed me off.

"You know, you have the smallest dick I've ever seen."

He raised the corner of his upper lip, his mouth open in confusion. "But you haven't seen my dick."

"I rest my case." I turned around and headed back to the bar as Camel Toe's buddies broke out into laughter. Vern was just walking down with Todd, the other bouncer. They were coming from the bar where I saw Diane watching.

I craned my neck up when I met him by the stairs. "Vern, table sixteen needs to go home…or wherever the hell they come from."

He raised his eyebrows. "Is that the table Diane was having trouble with?"

"Yeah. They're drunk and being assholes. I'm not serving them," I told him.

"Alright, they're gone then. Tony wants you back up at the bar."

"Okay. Thanks."

I headed back up to the bar where Diane was waiting for another load. I told her what was said and that Vern was throwing them out. We watched Vern and Todd push the three cowboys out of the bar while I filled her order. Debbie came back just as Diane left and she looked at me with sad eyes. I shrugged my shoulders at the silent exchange.

Another no-show.

Since we were shorthanded, Debbie stayed to help pick bottles and glasses off the tables. We finished a little after two-thirty and we headed to the back to go home.

Vern was waiting for us at the back door and I almost forgot that I had parked on Cerrillos Road. I told them goodbye at our lockers and headed out to the front door.

I walked out into the small parking lot and to the sidewalk on the west side of Cerrillos and headed north towards my truck. I didn't feel like making dinner, so I was planning to go to Wal-Mart and pick up something that could be nuked, along with a few other things I needed.

I passed a small Chinese restaurant on the second block and crossed the street to the third block. My truck was parked on the other end by the liquor store that sat on the corner. There was no one to be seen for two blocks. Most of the cars that had been parked along the side of the street when I had first arrived were gone. It was dark out and the streetlights along the sidewalks were set on sensors, but they were switching off instead of on as I walked down the street.

I wasn't listening to anything around me and I was trying to remember what I needed to pick up as far as groceries were concerned. I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings.

I was twenty feet away from my truck, which was parked under a streetlight, when I heard the abrupt yet familiar laughter of two of the drunks that I had dealt with earlier. It was coming from around the other side of the retaining wall, which contained a small park. Camel Toe and the twin who had made the raising cock comment walked around the end of the wall and onto the sidewalk right in front of me. My pace, which had been swift, slowed when I saw them come around the corner.

Camel Toe had a bottle of whiskey gripped in his right hand. The one called Chris was trying to tug up the zipper to his jeans. He really was an ugly piece of shit - some of his dark hair was stuck to his sweaty face and his nose looked like it had been broken a couple of times. It was large and very crooked.

They were completely hammered, but Camel Toe recognized me right away.

"Well, look who we've got here, Chris! It's that little cock tease who got us thrown out of that shit hole of a bar." And he looked surprised to see me, too. Plus a little irritated.

I ignored them, and just looked at the sidewalk in front of me. I already had my keys in my hand, so I fisted my car key in between the index and middle finger of my right hand and continued to slowly walk towards my truck. My heart started to pump a little faster and I could feel the adrenaline, but uneasiness and nervousness weighed down my legs.. The space behind my car was occupied by an old Oldsmobile Cutlass, which was parked closely to my rear end, so dodging into the street was not an option.

I stopped in my tracks when I got to the back bumper of my truck. The two men were by my hood.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

Camel Toe laughed. "Oh, come on, don't be like that. We're not gonna do anything. We just want to apologize for our rude behavior, sweetheart." They were both now stepping by my truck door.

The one called Chris snickered under his breath and out his nose. He was gross.

I still had my key held firmly between my fingers and I began to wiggle my thumb, trying to find the unlock button on my remote.

"Apology accepted. But stay the fuck away from me because I _will_ defend myself." I tried to lace my voice with some menace, but it came out a little shaky.

I had meant every word. I was fully capable of defending myself. It came with my job, and Vern made sure we all had at least some sort of defense skill because it was impossible for him and the other bouncers to be everywhere at once. It didn't mean the shit wasn't scary, though.

"Just calm down, sweetheart. We won't bite." Camel Toe raised his hands up in surrender, and then he and the one called Chris backed away from the door of my truck and moved closer to the wall.

I eased my way up along the bed of my truck and kept my eyes on them. My hands were shaking slightly along with my knees. I got to the door and was starting to open it when the one called Chris laughed out and lunged towards me. He was a drunk fuck and he stumbled.

I was pushing him away while he and Camel Toe laughed out loud. Camel Toe moved to my side and ran his finger quickly up the back of my thigh, right up between my legs.

I saw red.

I took my purse and swung around at him, knocking him in the head and earning a grunt with a laugh. At the same time I heard the loud screeching and skidding of tires coming to a stop behind me on the street.

By then I had already turned around and gripped the shoulders of the one called Chris and I kneed him in the balls because he was in the process of stumbling into me again.

"You drunk son of a bitch! Get the fuck away from me!"

Camel Toe was behind me and I heard the sound of breaking glass. He wrapped his arms around me, pinning my arms down, and lifted me up. I dropped my keys and my purse.

"Whoa! Whoa, sweetheart, calm d..."

I saw a blur out of my right eye as I was flailing around, over the top of my pickup bed. Something or someone had growled loud and deeply right before I was suddenly freed from Camel Toe's arms. I fell. I had been thrashing around up in the air, kicking my legs, and I went down hard. I landed partially on my ass and left hip with my left leg underneath me. I felt a stinging pain, but only for a moment.

My senses were jostled a bit, but in those first few seconds that threatening growl still emanated. Feral and wild, the sound shook me to the point I was overcome with a sense of dread, as I tried to process the picture.

The one called Chris was still on the ground in front of me, cradling his balls and trying to not pass out from the pain. He stayed down as I lifted myself out of the pile of broken glass from the whiskey bottle.

When I looked over towards the wall where the growl was coming from, I began to panic. There, standing with his back toward me and holding Camel Toe against the wall, was the vampire whose name I was going to have soon, come hell or high water.

I stumbled over to his left side by the wall, right next to Camel Toe. The sleeves on a brown, thermal shirt were pushed up to his elbows and his pale skin glowed in the dark. One muscular arm held Camel Toe's left wrist to the wall, extending his arm above his head. His other hand was gripping and holding the asshole a foot off the ground by his neck. Camel Toe couldn't breathe very well. He was struggling for air and trying to talk.

When I looked at the vampire's face, I really began to panic. The muscles in his face and neck were contracting and his upper lip was curling back over his teeth. He looked murderous, completely furious. And those eyes of his, which I had once thought were so bright, were completely black, and they were bulging out of their sockets a little. He was shaking, but not because he was afraid. He was angry, and he looked like he was about to snap Camel Toe's head completely off.

Or bite it off.

"Oh, God. Oh, shit. O...Okay, you can't kill him. Please don't do it. Y...you can't kill him," I stammered out quickly.

I saw him look at me through the corner of his eye before turning his glare back on Camel Toe.

The growl that was coming from his _beautiful_ throat and chest slowly quieted and all I could hear now was Camel Toe's raspy whimpering. It was dark, but I could see most of his face from where I was standing. I was using the wall for support because my legs were shaking.

"Please, don't kill him." I tried more gently.

I don't know why I thought the vampire's throat was beautiful. Maybe because the sinews and the tendons sticking out made it look..beautiful. Maybe because his skin was alabaster and smooth. But for a second, I wanted to kiss it, and taste it.

I couldn't get over his eyes. They were so dark and beautiful yet frightening at the same time. They were black from anger and filled with venom, but he seemed to have calmed a little bit. Camel Toe had his right hand gripped around the vampire's left wrist, trying to pull his hand away from his neck. There was nothing but pure terror in his face.

I had pleaded for his life. I wasn't ready to witness this asshole's death by watching the vampire kill him or even feed off of him. The one named Chris had made his way to his staggering legs. He took off north down the sidewalk, cursing in a fit of fear, his friend temporarily forgotten.

The vampire looked at me and finally spoke. His voice was very deep and quiet, but he sounded controlled. "Bella, get in my truck and move it off the road. We don't need to draw any attention." He was speaking to me but he kept his eyes on the asshole in front of him.

"Oh...God." My voice was thick with dread. His grip somewhat released to allow the asshole to breathe.

Camel Toe was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "What the fuck is with his eyes?! He's not gonna kill me, is he? Is he gonna kill me? Don't kill me! Please, don't kill me! Let me go, you son of a bitch!" he rasped out.

"Bella, go move my truck, would you please?"

"You won't kill him?" I asked.

He turned his head to looked at me while he sighed. The murderous look dropped away from his face and it was replaced by a reassuring look that I suppose was meant to soothe my nerves. He didn't say anything at first.

He turned back to face the man who was still pleading to be let go. His face turned hard and furious again and he began to glare at Camel Toe. He seemed, however, a little more subdued.

"I won't kill him." He mumbled. He glanced at me real quick like while he whispered loudly, "He's AB Negative." He winked; but his face turned serious again as it turned back to glare at Camel Toe.

He was trying to make a joke. I let go and exhaled all the breath I was holding.

"What the fuck is he talking about?" Camel Toe's voice was louder, as I ran for the truck. The vampire was letting him breathe.

The truck -his truck- was sitting in the middle of the street on the opposite side of mine. It was a Ford quad cab, just like mine. _He has nice chrome tube steps._ The truck was dark blue. I got in and steadied myself before I shifted into gear. the gauges caught my eye and I realized it was a fully loaded half ton. The speedometer had thirty-two thousand miles on it. _He drives it a lot._ I held the door and hit the gas, noticing a tiny robin figurine hanging from the rear view mirror. His CD player was on low and George Benson's _Slow Dancing_ was coming through the speakers. I moved it into the open space in front of my truck and I turned it off.

I looked up the road to see that the one named Chris hadn't run away completely. He was leaning over on the sidewalk and throwing up on the next block over, still holding his balls. The vampire still had the other asshole pinned up against the wall, but he had let him down so he could stand on his own two feet. They were talking quietly as I walked quickly over.

"So you ride bulls, Billy?" the vampire asked quietly. The hard and fierce look was still on his profile and his eyes were locked on the asshole evidently named Billy. There was a puddle underneath him, and although I couldn't see very well, I thought the front of his jeans looked wet.

_Jesus._

Billy stuttered when he was scared shitless. "Y-y-y-yeah. I swear, guy - w-w-we weren't gonna hurt your girlfriend. We were just having a little fun with her, is all. We had a little too much to drink. For Christ's sake, I'm married! I'd never hurt a bitch like that!"

The vampire's face twisted in anger. "She's not my girlfriend, and if you call her a bitch one more time, I'm gonna let _her_ kick your ass. Which hand was it?" he asked.

"Wh…What?" Billy asked, confused and frightened. I had returned to my spot on the left side and I trembled as I watched and listened.

"Which hand did you touch her with? It was your left hand, right? The hand you grip the rope with? The hand that wears your wedding ring?" The vampire raised his eyebrows while he waited for Billy's answer.

I didn't know where he was going with this line of questioning, but I assumed it wasn't going to be good. Billy's left hand was still pinned above his head. Billy didn't answer out loud; he could only manage to nod.

The movement was quick and I didn't even have time to jump until it was done. I heard the bones in his fingers crack. He had jerked his hand up and grabbed all of Billy's digits except for his thumb. A simple little squeeze for him.

Billy cried out in agony, his wail echoed down the sidewalk. His legs buckled under him and he sank into the puddle of his own piss.

I stepped back and away. The vampire had kept a hold of Billy by the neck and he squatted down with him when he collapsed. An agonizing groan left my throat. I felt nauseous.

He turned to look at me, concerned. He quickly turned to face Billy again and I heard his own groan. He removed his hand from Billy's neck and grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting Billy's sagging form up and closer to his face.

"Look what you made me do, you fuck. I've upset her." Billy whimpered and his eyes shifted over to me. He gave me a pleading look before he turned back to look at the vampire, who was doing a pat down from what I could gather.

His hand came back with a wallet from Billy's back pockets. He dropped Billy to the ground and opened the wallet up, pulling out a driver's license. Billy was slouched down against the wall, cradling his broken fingers against his chest.

The vampire looked at the license, put it back inside the wallet, and then threw the wallet on Billy's chest. He looked terrified and tried to scoot back further into the wall, but the vampire grabbed his broken hand again. He pulled off Billy's wedding ring and dropped his hand while Billy yelled in pain again.

His voice was quiet but it was laced with malice. "I'm going to do you a favor and let you go. But you and your friends better get the _fuck_ out of this city and take your asses back to Texas by tomorrow afternoon. I'll also be keeping _this_ and sending it to your wife with a nice little letter to explain what occurred tonight. Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind." He had showed Billy his wedding ring before he picked Billy up and as he delivered his intentions. He set him on his feet. He gave him a hard shove and Billy stumbled into the wall, nearly falling down on the sidewalk.

Billy stuttered out and pointed to the car behind my truck. "B...but that's our car. Tommy's sleeping in there. C...can we take the car?"

When I looked back and into the window of the car, there was the other twin. He was in the driver's seat with the seat reclined and he was sleeping. I could hear him snoring then.

I walked over and opened the driver's side door of the Cutlass and looked at the ignition. The keys were there. I shook my head, took the keys out, and slammed the door. I threw them over the retaining wall, earning a groan from Billy.

They weren't driving. I didn't give a fuck about their safety, but I did care about the late night worker driving home after his or her shift.

I folded my arms across my chest. A cool breeze had blasted down the sidewalk and had given me the chills. "You're not driving anywhere tonight. Let your friend be and go sleep it off somewhere, you asshole."

Billy hesitated and the vampire stalked towards him. Billy started to take off and the vampire gave him a kick in the ass. "She told you to leave, so get the fuck out of here."

Billy fell down but was on his feet again quickly. He took off running as fast as he could. I watched him cross the street to the next block over before I looked at the vampire.

He was still watching Billy and he was breathing pretty hard for someone who didn't need to. He was wearing a pair of black jeans along with a brown thermal top and he had it tucked in. He shifted on his feet slightly. He was wearing a pair of black hiking boots. From the backside he was very broad, his thick shoulders rising and falling with every breath. He filled that pair of jeans _very_ nicely.

We watched the one called Chris grab a hold of Billy once he reached him. The vampire was pacing a little bit and muttering to himself and I caught a curse word or two. He was..angry.

I couldn't hear him very well, but I thought I heard, "This wasn't supposed to happen."

"What? What did you say?" I asked quietly.

He turned around and looked at me. His face was drawn and hard. He shook his head slightly again and started to walk towards me.

He _was_ angry. "Nothing. Bella, why the hell weren't you parked in the back?"

I was a little taken aback, but I remained calm, as calm as I could be. I realized I was breathing hard and still shaking a little. I took a deep breath and let it out.

"Um...I was running late and there wasn't anywhere else to park."

"Well, why the hell didn't you have Vern or Tony walk you out?" he asked, still angry. He was standing three feet in front of me, and now that he was closer I could see his face better. There was concern there too.

"Um..." I groaned. "I don't know. Vern walked out with Debbie and Diane, and I…um, just went out the front. Besides, it was only three blocks and it's not like I haven't had to do it before."

He shook his head, exasperated. "Well, don't do it again. You don't have any business walking alone on this street at night unless you're looking to get into trouble, which you obviously found tonight. Jesus, honey, you could have gotten..." He trailed off, sounding stressed.

His eyes had lightened up. They were no longer the black pits that had looked at me before. His pupils were still dilated, but there was some softness there. His behavior was just confusing. Or maybe not. He obviously was concerned. He obviously cared.

"Yeah, maybe I could have, but I can also take care of myself. I work at a bar, you know. It's not the first time I've gotten felt up by some drunk," I told him quietly.

His tone turned condescending. "Oh, really? You can take care of yourself, huh? It didn't look like you were doing a great job of taking care of yourself a few minutes ago. Why the hell didn't you turn around and go back to the bar? Or why didn't you go around to the other side?" His arms were flying around in a blur.

I almost wanted to laugh. I was internally giddy. He cared _a lot._

I really couldn't be angry with him. He _did_ have a point. "Look, I don't know, I wasn't thinking clearly and I _was_ about to head butt that asshole when you pulled up. If you're going to stand here and berate me all night would you mind waiting for a minute while I get my jacket out of the truck? It's a little chilly out. And while we're at it, maybe you can explain why you're still following me. I'm not about to believe you were just driving by on a whim, so don't even try to give me that excuse."

I couldn't help the smile that must have appeared on my face. I was still a little shaken up, but I was relieved and happy at the same time. He was there and he was still following me. My skin was tingling from just the thought alone.

He looked away and down to the ground, and avoided looking at me. He looked worried, and he actually looked scared himself. He didn't say anything. He knew, he got caught.

I added softly, "Thank you though. I'm really glad you're here."

His eyes shot up to my face. "You are?" he asked quietly, smiling a little.

I was nervous, but it was the kind of nervousness that anyone would have when confessing their feelings. I swallowed thickly and I could only manage a nod. I wavered on my feet as I watched his face. He smiled a little more and his gaze took my breath away. Until he looked down at my legs and he raised his eyebrows. He frowned.

"Nice shoes, but I imagine the satin is ruined now."

I looked down and my stomach dropped.

Blood had been dripping down my left leg to my foot from a small cut right above my knee cap. The cut was still oozing.

I looked up in horror. I was bleeding in front of a vampire who drank human blood. I wavered unsteadily on my feet and he stepped forward.

"No! Don't! Please, don't!" I moved back a step and he froze.

The horror must have shown on my face and I watched his eyes widen. Instead of showing any sign of losing his control, his face remained calm.

"Bella, calm down. It's okay. It's just a little blood. Nothing to get excited about." He stepped forward again.

"Stop it, goddamn it! Don't come any closer!" The horror and dread going through me sent me into sheer panic and I started to cry.

He stopped again and firmly said, "Bella, look at me. Look at my eyes. Do I look like I'm losing it? If I was going to attack you, don't you think I would have done it by now? Look at me. Trust me. I won't hurt you." His voice had softened into a reassuring tone and he stated his last words with intensity and conviction.

I looked at him and in his eyes - they were soft, concerned, and they didn't seem like the eyes of a vampire who thirsted and hungered for spilled blood. His pupils were still dilated, but there was a drab of color and liquid there, outweighing the blackness.

He stepped forward casually and slowly with his hands raised somewhat in surrender. He stood directly in front of me and the corners of his lips rose slightly.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" he asked quietly.

His question didn't really register. My heart was beating furiously and his voice was very soft. I was lost in his eyes and I couldn't move.

"Huh?" I breathed out.

He raised his eyebrows again, smiling, and repeated his question. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

I swallowed hard and let out a breath. "Yeah, in the glove box."

In one quick movement I was swept up off my feet and he was carrying me over to the front of my truck and to the back of his. I completely tensed and I panicked.

"Oh, shit!"

He sighed audibly. He popped the tailgate of his truck open with one of his fingers on the hand that was against my rib cage and sat me down on the open tailgate. I watched him in silence as he walked over to pick up my purse and keys that were lying on the ground in the broken glass from the whiskey bottle.

He put my keys in his pocket and opened the door to my truck. He got inside, depositing my purse on the seat, and leaned over to fish out the first aid kit that was in the glove box. He took a large bottle of water that I had sitting in the cup holder and grabbed my black hooded sweatshirt, which was lying over the top of the passenger seat.

He got out, shut the door, and came back to where I was sitting on the tailgate. Putting the water and kit down beside me. He shook out my sweatshirt and slipped it behind my back, and I figured out I was supposed to slip my arms into the sleeves. He looked at me and then glanced to the front of his pick up bed. I watched him walk over to the passenger side, open up the cargo box behind the cab, and take out a roll of shop towels. He pulled a few off the roll. He came back to the tailgate.

He still seemed fine. He was breathing, that I could tell. He glanced at me again before he reached down and lifted my ankle. He unbuckled the strap and took my shoe off, throwing it on the tailgate.

"What are you doing?" I asked. My throat was dry and there was still a hint of a tremor in my voice. I wiped away the frightened tears that had fallen. He grabbed my other foot.

"Just relax. I'm gonna clean up your leg," he said softly. He unbuckled the strap and took off my right shoe, too.

He grabbed the bottle of water and took the cap off, handing me the bottle. "Take a drink. You're thirsty."

I took a drink, not realizing how thirsty I really was. He was watching me but I was too thirsty to care. I gulped down a quarter of the bottle and handed it back to him. He seemed to be waiting for it.

He poured some of the cold water over my cut and down my leg, washing off the blood. His eyes still had not changed.

He was looking at my cut. His cold hand wrapped around my calf and he lifted my leg slightly off the tailgate.

"It's not really that deep, but you've got a piece of glass in it. Hold still, okay?" He looked back down at my leg and he shifted his body. My legs were spread slightly and he was brushing up against my other knee.

I nodded as he stretched out the skin by my cut. I had been holding another breath and I let it out because I winced. "This doesn't bother you?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders as he studied my leg, and then he picked out a sliver of glass. "A little. Nothing for you to be concerned about, though. You'll be fine. Listen, I…um, I owe you an apology. I let my anger at that fucker get the best of me and I really shouldn't have done that. I don't like to...beat up on people, but that asshole needed to be taught a lesson. The way he talked to you tonight..." He sighed. "Well, when he touched you it set me off. I didn't mean to upset you."

A nice stream of fresh blood came out of the gash and I watched him carefully. He was in complete control. He poured a little more water over the cut and grabbed the towels to dry off my leg.

"You don't need to apologize. The way I see it, they both had it coming. I'm just glad you didn't kill him. And I'm glad you're here." I was nervous. I was still scared but that was because of Billy and Chris. Adrenaline was still coursing through my veins. There was so much I wanted to say to him, I just didn't know how to do it.

"You've already said that," he said softly. He glanced at me and smiled while he opened up the package of a gauze pad. He took some triple antibiotic and squeezed it onto the gauze, and then pushed it down on my cut.

I took a deep breath. "I know. But I owe you an apology, too. I haven't been very nice to you at all. And it's not only because of what you are. I don't want to really go into the details of my past but I need you to understand that I haven't had the best experiences with vampires, even if they weren't the enemy, or men for that matter. Somewhere along the way I've been letting my past dictate my future and I only came to realize that the other night. I shouldn't have been so judgmental and I'm sorry for that. I'd like very much to get to know you."

"I'm sure you have every right to be judgmental. Believe me when I tell you that if there's anyone who knows how cruel and evil my kind can be, it's me." He answered.

A look flashed across his face and in his eyes. It was very quick, and he replaced it with a smile. But in that one instant, his face had completely changed. That look concerned me because it wasn't a happy expression at all.

He looked away for a second before he looked at me again. "Anyways, I shouldn't have thrown so much at you at once. I'm glad you've changed your mind though. If you haven't been able to tell..." He scoffed quietly. "I'm having a _really hard_ time staying away from you."

He finished securing the gauze with a couple of pieces of tape, and then just stood there staring at me while his hand wrapped around my calf. His eyes traveling down to my chest, and then back up again.

The pace of my heart picked up. Heat filled my head. My ears even felt hot. I knew my face was red – but it wasn't out of embarrassment. I was starting to get a little turned on by the intensity of his stare and how close he was. I was very attracted to him. And to everything I knew about him. His masculinity was overwhelming. And his _throat_...

The cold hand that was still on my calf was doing nothing to stifle the warmth that was traveling through me. I felt the pad of his thumb stroking my skin, but I was trying to pretend like I didn't notice. I felt an ache, deep in the pit of my belly. I was praying to God that he couldn't sense it. I was praying that he couldn't _smell _it. Christ…I was in heat.

"I hadn't guessed." I told him quietly. I tried to smile at him demurely. He looked like he internally exploded. In a very good way.

A car passed by, heading north on Cerrillos, and the air of the moment seemed to shift. I was having a lot of trouble breathing, and it was noticeable. At any rate, the slight disruption broke the desire to just stare at him, and I think it was likewise for him. We both looked away.

The crickets were chirping from their hidden locations and a soft wind was blowing in from the south. But it was quiet for a moment by the tail end of his truck.

I was nervous and I couldn't look him in the eyes for what I needed to say. I looked at every other part of him. His shirt fit him tight across the shoulders and across his chest, yet it was looser around his stomach. Those arms of his were long and his shoulders and biceps were thick. I couldn't see very well, but he filled the front of his jeans just as nicely as he filled the back.

My voice was shaky. I was so incredibly nervous. "You should know, though. I'm still scared. Not because I'm afraid of what you are, but because I don't know how to do this. I don't know how much I can give."

He moved slowly, watching my face to make sure he wasn't overstepping his bounds, and he stepped even closer. I spread my legs apart to accommodate his hips and he placed both his hands along my outer thighs on the tailgate. My body was screaming at me to move closer but I stayed put. It was bad enough when I took a deep breath and sighed out because a moan involuntarily decided to leave my throat instead.

He stifled a laugh and grinned from ear to ear.

His face, which was now incredibly close, was soft. "I don't either, so we'll figure out our own pace. This won't work if we don't communicate, so we need to be honest with each other. Right? We'll keep it light. Does that sound okay?"

I sighed and smiled at him. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

"That sounds just fine." I was having a hard time talking and I still couldn't catch my breath.

He grinned from ear to ear. "Now, should I take the rest of that water and pour it over your head? Honestly, I may not be attracted to your blood but that other scent of yours is having quite the effect."

I didn't think it was possible, but his smile got bigger and he shook with silent laughter.

I was sure my entire head burst into flames. The horrified look on my face sent him nearly into hysterics.

"I'm glad you think it's funny," I told him in a curt tone. His index finger on his right hand began to run circles on my knee.

He quit laughing and his face turned serious. "Oh, I don't think it's funny at all. It does wonders for my ego to know that you're just as attracted to me as I am to you. But, Bella? I have to warn you...I don't put out on the first date." He was smiling again and trying not to laugh.

A fresh wave of heat washed over my head.

"God, you're awful." I looked down at my lap and grimaced in laughter and embarrassment.

He stopped laughing for a moment but he was still grinning."Actually, the name's Peter. Peter Whitlock. You haven't even asked me what my fucking name is. Or is that insignificant because you plan to ditch me the first chance you get?"

It would have been hard to believe, but I might very well have forgotten to ask if I hadn't given him that opener.

His name was Peter. It fit him well. I liked it. A lot.

My face still felt hot. "No, it's not insignificant at all. I don't think you're capable of being ditched. You're much too fast and I fall down a lot when I run."

Peter started to chuckle under his breath, and before I could really register what he was doing, he snaked his left arm behind my back and pulled my upper body into a hug. I froze.

He was hugging me. I relaxed when I figured out that was all he meant to do.

My arms found their respectful positions; one around his back and the other over his shoulder. He was incredibly hard and cool, even through his clothing. I laid my head on his shoulder, turning in toward his neck. It felt so nice. It felt so good just to be held. It wasn't that intimate of an embrace; my butt was still on the back of the tailgate. But it was the comfort and the closeness of another - of a male - I had missed and craved.

I felt him take a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

I took my own deep breath to breathe in his sweet scent, but all I could smell was the hint of Downy on his shirt. Mostly, I focused on his arms that were wrapped around me and their firmness. It felt perfect.

Peter's right hand ran slowly up and down the middle of my back and I could feel the side of his face and his nose press into my hair. He was breathing evenly.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Bella," he said quietly. There was relief in his tone. Such an odd thing to say, but it was also very sweet.

"You, too, Peter."

I was thinking about how quickly things had taken a turn from tonight's events when something occurred to me. "Wait, you were at the bar tonight?" I asked.

He pulled back and we separated. He moved to the right and turned around, jumping up slightly to sit beside me on the tailgate. His left leg was touching my right leg.

"Yeah, why?" Peter looked at me curiously.

"Because I didn't see you," I said. _Debbie never saw him either_.

He shrugged his shoulders. He looked down at my hands, which were resting in my lap.

"I wasn't there long, only about a half hour, but long enough for me to want to punch those bastards for what they said to you." He grimaced and looked away, afraid that he had upset me, I imagine.

"After that, I waited out front and watched you walk to your truck from down the street. I gotta tell you, though, I really admire the way you handled it. You stayed calm and didn't let it get to you. I'd have throttled that son of a bitch right there if it had been me," he said.

"Believe me, I wanted to. It comes with the job. I've heard almost every line and degrading comment there is, so I've learned to let it go in one ear and out the other."

"Really? Every line, eh?" He smiled mischievously. But he stifled it and steeled himself.

_Oh,_ _no_. I leaned back slightly, preparing for whatever was about to come.

"Is it hot out here, or is it just you?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "So old."

"You'd make a bishop kick out a stained glass window." He jutted out his chin and said it forcefully.

I sighed and shook my head. He paused for a moment and concentrated hard, his brow furrowing.

"Can I impregnate you with my demon spawn?"

I felt my lip twitch. He had said it nonchalantly and hunched his shoulders.

"No. I'd rather you suck me dry."

He grimaced, and then chuckled a little. "Yeah, you're right. Not a good idea."

He stared at me with no emotion for a moment before he beamed victoriously.

"Hi. My name is Peter. Wanna find out why?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

I lost it. Yes, maybe I _did_ want to find out why. His name was Peter and it was a perfect line for him. I giggled and I felt my face heat up.

He was chuckling and I noticed his eyes were a much brighter. Definitely red, but the darkness muted them. He stopped laughing and it grew quiet for a moment. I felt a warm feeling in my chest and heat in my neck, while butterflies fluttered away in my stomach.

He smiled softly, "If you stood in front of a mirror and held up eleven roses, you would see twelve of the most beautiful things in the world."

I had already heard that one, but once he said that it was a battle I did not want to win.

"Ding, ding." I smiled at him, and laughed quietly, truly flattered.

It was quiet again. His face was set in a straight line. His eyes gazed at my entire face and for the longest moment he gazed at my lips.

Peter looked down at my hands in my lap. "So, I was thinking about keeping this light. I know this is your long weekend off... I was wondering if you'd like to do something this Friday night?"

I started playing with my hands, pulling my fingers. I was about to answer him when I thought about his reference to knowing it was my weekend off.

"Wait a minute. Just how much have you been watching me?"

He rolled his eyes. "On and off since the first night I saw you. I never peeked into any of your windows, though. And I watched you a lot less after I gave your shoes back to you."

His face turned a little regretful as he smiled, and he looked straight ahead while shrugging his shoulders a little. "Your routine changed. You stayed inside the house more. Mostly, I would just listen and watch you when you would come outside. It wasn't every day, Bella. And I've stayed away from your house the last two days, just like I promised. But you did leave the back door open last Thursday when you left for work. I closed it. You should be more careful," he admonished. "I didn't go inside, though. So don't worry."

_What?_ I didn't remember doing that at all. And the thought of my conversation with Debbie had entered my mind and I had begun to worry about that until he said he had stayed away. I was relieved, but I was also a little disappointed. It wasn't normal for somebody to like the fact that they were being stalked, was it?

I asked him quietly, "So, you've never been in my house?" That was a little upsetting.

He looked a little offended. "No. I would never go that far. That's not to say I wasn't tempted. But I would never do that without your permission."

I nodded. "Good."

"So, can I sneak in later when you're sleeping and go through your drawers?" Peter asked, almost completely serious, but their was humor in his eyes.

"No. I'd prefer you wait until I have you over." My face heated up again. There was more than one way he could take that, and I don't think I masked my panic very well at all.

In my underwear drawer was my battery-operated boyfriend. Debbie had bought it for me and it was a stocking stuffer last Christmas.

"Damn," he said, feigning disappointment. But then Peter looked at me pointedly and said, "So, will you go out with me Friday night or not?"

"Yes. But what did you have in mind?" My chest felt heavy. I was having trouble catching my breath. The truth was I felt like I was on the verge of a panic attack.

He looked at me softly. "Don't worry so much. We'll just have some fun and keep it simple. I was thinking I could drive us down to Albuquerque and we could go to Cliff's for a few hours. That way you can get to know me a little bit better and maybe I can earn some more of that trust you've decided to bestow upon me," he reasoned, but he looked a little amused.

Cliff's Amusement Park seemed like such an odd idea for a vampire to think of.

"It won't bother you to be in such a public place? I know you've been to the club, but…I've always been under the impression that…um, vampires like you try and stay away from the public. You know, being near humans for a long period of time. Because of your...thirst."

He was thoughtful before he answered, "I suppose for some of us that could be true, and in the beginning it was sort of that way for me. But no, it won't bother me. Are you worried I wouldn't be able to control myself?"

"No, no. You proved that you can tonight. I just...I don't want you to be uncomfortable in a setting like that, and because of the social aspects involved."

Peter was quiet for a moment as he stared at me. "It's very nice of you wanting me to be comfortable, but I'll be just fine. So will you. I think spending a little time in public will be good for the both of us, and we'll both just have some fun, okay?"

I smiled at him and nodded. I was starting to feel really awkward. "Okay."

He didn't say anything else, he just stared at me. I had to look away from him for a second, because he made me incredibly nervous, but in a good way. He was very hard to read. My skin was tingling and I was so confounded by him that I didn't notice his hand had left its spot on the edge of the tailgate. I felt his cold fingertips brush lightly over the fingers of my right hand as Peter looked down to our hands.

"You are really warm," he mumbled, but it sounded slightly like a groan.

I was tingling all over, and I really didn't need my jacket anymore. I was hot. My heart was about to thump out of my chest. He brushed over my knuckles with his fingertips. He pulled his hand back and it was so quick, I didn't even see it.

He looked ahead and I watched him swallow thickly. "I like that. In fact, I like the way you respond to me _too_ much. So, before I stop behaving like a gentleman, let's get you in your truck and on your way home. It's late and you're probably tired."

He jumped up and brushed against the front of my legs as he put the tape and the triple antibiotic back into the first aid kit.

"You know the reason I'm reacting the way I am is because of what you are. I'm human, and I'm _supposed_ to be attracted to you," I said as a matter of fact.

He threw my empty water bottle further into the bed of his truck. I wasn't sure, but I could have swore he rolled his eyes.

"Oh, is that it? Well, damn. Here I was hoping I'd charmed you with my wit and finesse." He leaned closer and exhaled his breath in my face. My heart stuttered.

I looked away quickly and muttered, "And you call _me_ puffed up."

He chuckled as he grabbed my shoes, and then he walked towards the door of his truck.

"Wait! Where are you going with my shoes?"

He threw them in his truck. "The lining's all ruined. It's a good thing I didn't replace it to begin with, but now I have a reason to," he said. Peter was standing in front of me again. "Don't worry. I'll have them back to you before you go back to work tomorrow. Come on, Bunny. Hop on."

"Bunny?"

Peter ignored me while he turned around and put his back against my legs. He was going to carry me.

"I can walk. You don't have to carry me."

"There's glass all over the sidewalk. Besides, I could use the cheap thrill. Come on," he coaxed.

I didn't know what to say to that, so I kept my mouth shut. I scooted up, wrapping my legs around his waist. He bent down a little and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

It wasn't the best position for me to be in and I felt the air hitting the back of my butt. My dress gathered up. His hands grasped the outside of my thighs and he lifted me.

"So, where did you learn to repair shoes anyway?" I asked as he carried me over to my truck. He opened the door and turned around. I stepped down onto my tube step and dropped down into the seat. While I straightened out my dress, he hesitated -I think on purpose- so I could get situated.

"It's just something I picked up during The Depression. I was still human and it was a way to keep myself fed." He turned around and leaned against the door frame.

"As in The _Great_ Depression? How old are you?" I could never get used to this.

"Twenty-seven." He smiled. I raised my eyebrows at him.

His smile grew bigger. His face was very close to mine. "I'm officially an old fart, Bella. I hit the century mark on April fifteenth," he said quietly.

I thought about the date while I stared at him. That was the first time I spoke to him. "April fifteenth. That's the..."

"Yeah, you shot me down on my birthday. Plus, you pretty much called me a pussy, you made me drink that shot of whiskey, and you even told me to stay the fuck..."

I couldn't look at him and I was groaning through his entire, rambling statement. "Okay, okay. I was scared and I behaved terribly. I'm so..."

He brought his hand to my chin and lifted my face up to his. He was grinning like the Cheshire cat. "I'm only playing with you. Don't be sorry for the way you reacted. It was justifiable."

"You're awful." I smiled at him.

"Yeah, I am." He let go of my chin. "Go home and get some rest. I took the liberty of programming my phone numbers into your phone when you were checking out my ass earlier. I hope you don't mind. If you need anything, or if you just want to talk, _call_ me."

"Okay." I was just beginning to figure out that he liked to embarrass me.

Peter took my keys out of his front pocket and leaned over to put the car key in the ignition, starting the truck. He lowered the driver's side window and stepped back to shut the door. I put my seat belt on. He leaned against the door.

I looked at him. "So, will I see you at the club tomorrow night?"

He smiled. "No. I've got a few things to take care of, so unfortunately I won't get to see you until Friday. But I'll be close by, so if you need anything..."

"I'll call you. Do you want my number?"

He gave me a wary look.

"You already have it, don't you?"

"Yep." He leaned in a little closer and looked at my hand before he looked back into my eyes. "Listen, Bella. I'm good at fixing things. Shoes just happen to be one of them. But I can only fix what I can see, and sometimes even then it's never better than new. Just keep that in mind. And even though I broke my promise about staying away from you, I don't make promises I can't keep. So I do promise to pick you up promptly at six on Friday."

He smiled. But there was some uneasiness there, for a moment. Something didn't seem quite right. As soon as it was there though it was gone again a hair of a second later. But I had to look away from him and swallow a lump that had popped up in my throat. I looked back at him and smiled. I knew he had questions, questions I would need to answer eventually. Maybe his past was just as ugly as mine. Or uglier, considering he was really old and a vampire.

A thought occurred to me. "Can I drive?"

He looked at me like he smelled something bad. "No, you can't drive. I'm an old fashioned, chivalrous bastard. Why would you ask that?"

I sighed. "Because it's been my experience that you vampires like to drive fast, that's why."

He smiled and an evil glint came into his eyes as he leaned into the cab a little more. His face was incredibly close and my head hit the back of the headrest. I studied his lips, his strong jaw, and his chin. He was so beautiful.

He spoke so quietly it was like velvet rubbing against my skin. "I can think of other ways to cure my need for speed. I drive a nice truck. I don't like to abuse it."

I didn't respond. His face was just inches away and my heart was skipping beats. His eyes scanned over my face and came to rest on my lips. He moved quickly, placing a firm kiss on my cheek, and then pulled away.

Cold lips, hard, yet soft. And there was a lingering burn that I did not want to fade away.

His eyes were wide and he seemed shocked by his own actions. "Bye. Drive carefully."

"O...okay. Bye. Thank you."

He nodded, and those red orbs were still wide. He was still looking at me as he started to walk to his truck and I watched as he nearly ran into the light post on the edge of the sidewalk. I stifled a laugh.

That's when it occurred to me how human Peter seemed. Even his walk wasn't full of the gracefulness I had seen with Edward and the rest of the Cullen's. It was there, but he seemed so..human. So _masculine_. He was still a vampire, very quick, formidable, and he seemed to experience the same mood swings. But it was almost as if he had retained quite a bit of the humanity that had been taken from him. It was true that he was beautiful, but I hadn't yet once felt self conscious of my own shortcomings in his presence. I wondered why that was.

I watched him get into his truck and start it. I couldn't see him because his windows were covered in a dark tint, but he rolled down his window and he waved. He pulled out and headed north on Cerrillos, and when he passed the next block I watched him slow and come to a complete stop.

Billy and the one called Chris were still there, sitting on the corner of the street. I watched Billy and Chris stand up and shift back and forth on their feet; probably not sure if they should run or not. I had to wonder myself.

Peter slowly accelerated and I let out the breath I was holding. I watched him until he reached the next block, where he stopped at a red light.

I pulled out and turned around to head south when my phone rang. I grabbed it out of the compartment on the outside of my purse and looked at the caller ID.

_Peter._

"Hello?"

"_We're not the brightest crayon in the box, are we, Bunny?"_

"Why do you say that?" I said, a little aggravated after I thought about what he said.

"_Turn your headlights on, Bella."_


	7. Chapter 6 Bella's Plumbing

Chapter 6. Bella's Plumbing

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

I had an old dream. After everything that occurred the night before, maybe I shouldn't have been surprised that I had the dream. I was just the same, and it was a little troubling.

But after giving it some serious thought, there really was no comparing the two instances because I actually believed that Billy, the drunk asshole, and his friend hadn't planned on really doing anything more than screw with me a little bit. I'm sure they would have been more than happy to have had a good time, but I didn't really believe they would have tried to force themselves on me. They had just been two drunks, screwing around.

It wasn't Port Angeles all over again, and Peter was nothing like Edward.

Besides that, the only time I had been truly helpless in my life was when Edward and the Cullens had left Forks. But I wasn't a lump of waste anymore. I would have been alright even if Peter hadn't so gallantly driven up and come to my rescue. I would have fought like hell and kicked ass.

But I was so happy that he had.

It had taken me forever to fall asleep after I got home. After his sarcastic comment about not being the brightest crayon in the box, I hung up on him when he had started to laugh.

When I got home, I flew through the house directly towards the bathroom because I had to pee bad. I showered, but not before audibly groaning at my appearance in the mirror. My face had looked terrible because of my hard night at work with no makeup on, and my hair was a mess. But he had still looked at me like I was beautiful.

Thinking about what it would be like to kiss him made my lips involuntarily twitch. My stomach was filled with butterflies, and I also realized that maybe I would not have refused any type of advance. Maybe I would have been taken off guard, but the fact was where part of my mind would have said 'no' because it was definitely not the time for any kind of physical intimacy, my body thought differently. The heat that ran through me from just one simple touch made me want to rut with him like a nymphomaniac.

After that thought, I came back down to earth while hiding Bob - my Christmas present from Deb - underneath the right side of the mattress of my bed.

_"So can I sneak in later when you're sleeping and go through your drawers?"_

I had to face the fact that Peter was a vampire, and it was more than likely that actual sexual intercourse with him would be impossible. Wouldn't it?

The only man I had ever made love to was Jake, and since we were both young, the only experience we had was with each other. After some practice, we had what I thought was a great sex life. It had been a learning experience, and I had no idea what experience a man like Peter might have had. But I really wanted to find out.

I also couldn't let myself compare this situation with Edward or Jake because it was _so_ different. This vampire didn't thirst for my blood like Edward had - at least I didn't think he did. And Peter never seemed to hesitate when it came to the physical contact we did have. He didn't treat me like I would break. Three times I had found myself in his arms and he didn't seem to worry about if he was hurting me or not.

Maybe it was that shred of humanity he still had that gave him the ability to know his own strength. Maybe it was because he fed off of humans. It made me think that maybe the act of feeding off a human and the intimacy possibly involved, and I daydreamed about his lips and teeth at the neck of his victim, greedily drinking from the jugular. I thought about his strong arms holding his prey closely, keeping the victim immobile.

I don't know why I thought about that but I did. It might have been silly, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe the control was inherited because he fed from humans. But I also had some form of sick excitement at the thought of it, too.

I needed to dial back into reality. But that _was_ the reality.

There were several facts I needed to face, and physical intimacy was only a small part of it all. I would always have a Bob to fall back on if I felt the need to release my sexual tension. But it would be...nice.

It would be fucking spectacular to sleep with a man like Peter.

I was giddy, and being ridiculous. But that's what happens when you have a crush. And I had at least a crush. I wanted to know everything about him. He had been twenty-seven years old when he was changed, and even though I wanted to know how that had come about, I wanted to know about the man before that happened. I wanted to know why Peter was alone. And I wanted to know why, for one moment, his face had taken on a form of sadness that reminded me of my own a few years ago.

I even thought about what it could all could lead to and the future. And my thoughts were there about a future with Peter. But the thing was, I really knew nothing about him, and I had outgrown puppy love a long time ago. I was going on a date with an immortal and I needed to calm down a bit. Because it was just a date. I was simply infatuated with him. But at the same time, I had to be realistic about it. There was no point going further if I couldn't commit myself to the possibility that it could lead to more. To love.

And what if it did? What were his ideas and feelings on immortality? Would he also be against a voluntary change? Would he think he'd be taking my soul away? I knew we would have plenty of time to figure it all out if this led to love. And if this thing I had with Peter could go all the way - if I could let myself fall in love again and fall in love with another vampire - would it be something I could commit myself to again? Would I give up humanity, having a family, and growing old with the person I love?

I needed to hold on to those thoughts for a while. I was getting way ahead of myself.

But for someone I loved unconditionally, I would do anything for them. Anything at all. In this case, it meant one thing for me. I wasn't going on a date with a human, for Christ's sake. Peter was a vampire. There was no point going any further with Peter if I couldn't commit myself to forever. And there would be no point continuing a relationship other than friendship if it would never be an option with him.

I tried with Edward, and his beliefs overpowered the love he had for me. It was something that would need to be discussed before becoming too emotionally involved with Peter. But even then, I already was to an extent. And I thought for someone who had said he was having a hard time staying away from me, he was too.

Maybe it wasn't best to look so far ahead. Maybe it was better to just live in the now, and enjoy life.

I didn't want immortality just for the sake of living forever. I wanted to be loved just as strongly and vehemently as I could love, regardless of whether he was human, vampire, or werewolf.

There was really something fucking wrong with that. I should have added alien to that list. If the mythological existed, then dammit, so did creatures from another world.

I was totally fucked in the head.

But I couldn't be with a man if I could never be physically and mentally equal to him. I didn't want to grow old and fragile and constantly feel like I could never be enough. It wouldn't have been fair for either of us. I trusted Peter enough to know that he didn't want to drink my blood, but that didn't mean an accident couldn't happen. There was always going to be the risk.

I was thinking too far ahead. It might not have even worked out between us. We could just end up being friends. I survived Edward and Jacob, and I would survive this too if it didn't work out. Not that it wouldn't hurt like hell.

Rejecting him that night a few days ago had hurt. Peter was intelligent, and it seemed he had been taking my feelings into consideration even though he hadn't given up on me. I had figured that much out because he knew exactly what I needed to hear; and that was that I needed to take it slow. Even though he had taken the first step, maybe he needed the same standards as well.

"_This won't work if we don't communicate, so we need to be honest with each other. Right? We'll keep it light. Does that sound okay?"_

I was starving when I woke up at ten-thirty the next morning. I ate some leftover meatloaf and cooked up a helping of fresh, mashed potatoes. My mind was on Peter.

It was overcast outside, and I could see a wall cloud coming in from the southwest out of my kitchen window. I heard thunder in the distance. In an effort to get him off my mind, I decided to start cleaning the house, hoping I wouldn't need to water my garden. I needed to dust and I had two loads of laundry to do. The sheets of my bed needed to be washed; and I needed to mop. The stove and the drip pans needed a good cleaning, and I needed to vacuum the cobwebs in the corners of the living room and along the beams of my ceiling badly.

I started in the kitchen because I already had a stack of dishes that needed to be done. I washed the dishes and the drip pans from my stove. When I was done I pulled the baskets out of the drains in both sinks so I could fill one up with mop water and Pine Sol.

Two days prior, I had noticed that the drains from my sink weren't draining very quickly, and the day before it had been worse. I had poured some Drain-O down the morning before, and I didn't run the water until later in the day. But when I pulled the baskets out of both drains, the dirty water didn't go anywhere.

It was possible the strainers hadn't caught all the leftover food and maybe I had a clog. I went to grab a plunger out of the bathroom, thinking that maybe I could dislodge whatever was plugging the drain. I plunged the left sink and nothing happened. When I moved over to the right one, I started to get pissed.

That's when I heard a loud clunk from under the sink.

The water in both sinks started to drain out but it didn't sound right. I could hear water flowing, falling, and hitting a hard surface, and then I felt some warm water immediately hit my feet.

"Oh, shit!"

I opened up both cupboard doors under the sink only to discover that part of the drain underneath had completely fallen off. A bendable piece of pipe that looked more like a vacuum hose was lying on the bottom of the cupboard, and there was two or three gallons of dirty water emptying out on the bottom of my cupboard, leaking out onto the kitchen floor. Water was still dripping from the open pipe. _Just great._

I had dust rags, old rags, and different cleaners under the sink, so I started to pull everything out, sitting everything on the counter. Once that was done I ran and grabbed some bath towels out of the bathroom cupboard and started laying them down on the bottom of the cupboard to soak up some of the water. My mop was a crappy sponge mop, which wouldn't work at all to sop it all up. I grabbed a bucket from the garage and started squeezing out the soaked towels.

I picked up the piece that had fallen off the sink and saw that there was a cracked nut on the bendable piece of piping; which was also filled completely with crud. Even though the kitchen had been remodeled, the pipes looked old and rusty and the flexible piece broke even more when I bended the pipe, trying to dislodge the lump of crud.

"Oh, hell."

I didn't have time to learn how to fix that shit on my own, so I grabbed the phone book out of the drawer and my cordless phone off its base. I was going through the yellow pages, looking for plumbers, when the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and saw Debbie's name and number.

"Hello?"

"_Morning. What's going on?"_ Debbie asked. She sounded groggy and she was yawning.

"Um, just cleaning. Actually, the drain to my sink just broke, and I'm trying to find a plumber. Can I call you back?"

"_Yeah, but is it something you can't fix yourself?"_

"I'm sure I could, but it would take me forever to figure it out and I don't wanna mess with it right now."

"_Okay, well I'm going back to bed soon anyway. I'm too tired. I'll just talk to you tonight."_

"Alright. Bye."

"_Bye."_

I found a listing for a twenty-four hour plumbing service that was on the south side of town, so I called the number. No one answered, and the answering machine came on, so I left a message explaining what had happened and what I needed. I was getting ready to call another listing when the phone rang. Unavailable number.

"Hello?"

"_This is the final notice informing you that your car warranty is about to expire..."_

"Jesus Christ." I hung up.

I called another listing and the phone just rang and rang, with no one answering. It was lunchtime, so it was possible that everyone was out, but I wanted to get it fixed as soon as I could. I was getting ready to call another listing for a handyman/plumber when the phone rang again.

"Hello!"

There was a pause. "_Damn. Do you always answer the phone like that, or did somebody piss in your Cheerios this morning?"_

_Oh, shit._

My heart stuttered and I was flustered. "Oh! Umm...sorry about that. Hi."

"_Hi. What's going on?" _Peter's voice sounded just as deep and seductive as it had before we parted last night. I swallowed heavily. I wanted to talk to him but I hadn't prepared myself for this. After the night before, I realized I needed to show a little more restraint. I needed to quit letting my lust drive me and try not to be so affected by his presence - whether it was in person or on the phone.

And besides all that, I had a sink that needed fixed.

"Nothing much. Listen, can I call you back?"

There was a pause. "_Sure, but you're not pissed about the crayon comment, are you? I was only teasing." _He sounded a little disappointed and concerned.

"No, no, I knew you were. It's just…I've got a mess on my hands right now and I'm trying to find a plumber before I go to work later."

"_What happened?"_

"My sinks have been all plugged up. I took a plunger to it. The drain under my kitchen sink fell apart and water went everywhere." I sighed. "It started out with just a broken plastic nut, but when I messed around with a piece of the piping, it broke."

Another pause.

"_Well, that's not supposed to happen." _His voice had gone up an octave and it sounded shaky for some odd reason, plus he kind of laughed nervously.

"Yeah, no shit. So, can I call you back?"

There was a pause. "_No, you can't. Listen, I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't call anyone else," _he said firmly.

_What?!_

"What? No, you don't need to come over. I mean, I've got to call somebody to fix this, you don't need..."

I heard him sigh. "_Bella, just let me take a look at it before you go calling anyone. Chances are you'll end up paying out of your ass for a couple of parts that wouldn't cost you twenty bucks. So just wait, okay?"_

He was probably right about that. I said the only thing I really could. "Um, okay. Are you sure? I mean my house is a mess, and I'm not..."

"_You're not dressed? Well, I'm on my way. I've been stalking you the past two weeks. I've already seen you with your hair sticking up everywhere and no bra on. I really like that purple spaghetti strap shirt you wear for bed, it really shows off...you know what, forget I said that. Just go comb your hair and change if it'll make you feel better."_

I started giggling out of shock, embarrassment, and for the unfinished compliment about my boobs. Maybe it should have pissed me off, but it didn't. It was only then, when I paid more attention to the background noise, that I could hear the faint acceleration of his truck engine.

"You're awful. Where are you anyway?"

"_I just left my house on the to go pick up a few things I needed. We don't have good weather like this often, so I'm taking advantage of it."_

For some reason I pictured a smile on his face. Santa Fe in the springtime would be perfect for him, with the possibility of the occasional rainy day or thunderstorm. It was usually always sunny in Santa Fe.

"Are you sure it's not a bother? I mean, if you have things to do, I can call a plumber. It's no trouble at all and I don't want to ruin your plans."

"_I'll be there in ten minutes." _The line went dead. Peter had hung up.

_Shit. Shit. Shit. _

I flew around the house, picking up my flip-flops in the living room. I fluffed up and straightened out the throw pillows and the blanket on the back of the couch. The fireplace was a mess, with ash and soot on the floor in front of it. I didn't have time to clean it. I ran into the bedroom and quickly made my bed. My purple top was in the wash, and the blue tank I was wearing was stained with grease spots and soaked with dirty dishwater. I found a dark green, t-shirt in the drawer and I put a bra on. I slipped out of my pajama bottoms and threw on some clean underwear, along with a pair of black sweat pants. It didn't look like I had tried so hard, and that was exactly what I wanted him to think. For some reason, I thought I would get more shit if I looked anything other than what I did on a normal basis when I was at home.

I ran to the bathroom and cried out when I looked in the mirror. Lack of sleep last night had left some pretty dark rings under my eyes and I had slept on my wet head. I washed my face, and then dampened my hairbrush and worked through a couple of tangles, trying to figure out if I should put it up in a ponytail or not. I left it down. I always left it down when I was at home. I took my shirt off, wiped down my armpits, and applied fresh deodorant. Then I brushed my teeth as fast as I could.

When I was done, I opened up the front door, looking for him. It was raining lightly, and claps of thunder told me the storm was closer. There was a box sitting down by the screen door, so I picked it up and opened it. My shoes. The satin inside both shoes had been completely replaced and glued down. There was a note in the box from Peter, telling me to sit them on the water heater so the glue could dry some more. He must have dropped them off earlier that morning while I was sleeping.

I took them back to the laundry room to do just that when I realized I had forgotten about the mess in the kitchen. Dishes were piled high in the dish drainer, so I went to work drying what I could as fast as I could. The floor and the cupboard still had soaked towels sitting on them, and I squatted down to grab them and wring the water out. I heard a knock at the screen door.

"Bella?" He had opened the door and called out my name.

"I'm in the kitchen. Can you find your way?"

Before I knew it he was standing in the doorway, looking better than I could imagine. I hadn't seen him in the actual daylight yet, and even though it was a sunless day, the dull gray light coming in from outside only made him more surreal. I quit breathing.

He was in a pair of faded blue jeans and a dark blue, long sleeved T-shirt that was covered in rain drops. He was in his socks. He had taken his shoes off by the door, which was something I did so I wouldn't need to clean the hardwood floors as much from tracking in dirt or water.

His dark blond hair was a little damp from walking in the rain. He was wearing contacts again to hide his eyes. I didn't like it, I realized, but his face held a certain level of excitement and a broad smile.

"Hi." I smiled back, and then looked away from him to squeeze out one of the towels that had been sitting in the cabinet.

"Hi, yourself. At least you're smiling now. It sure as hell didn't sound like you were on the phone earlier." He had mumbled out the last part as he walked over and crouched down.

He grabbed a dry towel sitting on the counter and wiped down the baseboard inside the cabinet that was still wet. He sat down on his ass and leaned into the cabinet to look at my pipes. His shoulders were so wide that he had to maneuver a little bit just to get into the small space.

"When did you buy this house?" Peter asked. He was looking at the piece of flexible pipe I had broken under the sink and pulling on another, scrutinizing it.

"Umm, March of last year," I answered, after swallowing quite a bit of saliva that had been forming in my mouth. I watched his arm reach above him to support himself as he leaned in, and the way his body bent into the cabinet was turning my insides into mush.

_God, his body..._

"Didn't you check out the plumbing when you bought the place? This shit should have been replaced a long time ago. It's broke before. The pipe in the floor is rusting out and the stupid fucker who fixed this shit put the S trap upside down. See, look..." I leaned in the other side to see what he was pointing at.

"See, they cut the pipe off where it was threaded, and that nut there is supposed to screw down and hold them together. But with the threading gone, there's no seal. And look at this cheesed shit... These basket nuts used to hold the old pipes on, too, but when they replaced them with this crap, whoever fixed it didn't bother putting on any slip joint nuts. See, you can just pull it off," he said quietly.

Peter seemed irritated as he scrutinized the work that had been done under my sinks. I wasn't sure how serious this was or how much this would set me back. _I_ was irritated. He had pulled the pipe under the left sink right off with no effort at all. I could have done that.

I was also curious as to how he knew so much about this sort of thing. I didn't know many red-eyed vampires capable of naming the parts of a kitchen sink drain.

"When I bought this place the kitchen had been remodeled the year before. I opened the cabinets and peeked at everything, but I guess I really didn't look that well. I was just making sure there wasn't a pest problem and no water damage," I told him.

When I first saw the house, I fell in love with it immediately. I had a list to go by on things to check before I bought it, but plumbing hadn't been one of them.

"Well it's not your fault. It's the cheesy bastard who did the work. But your realtor should have found this and had the old homeowners replace it because it's not up to code." He said as he glared inside the cabinet. I had leaned back out and so had he.

I realized this wouldn't be a simple fix, but I could afford to have it redone. "So I need to find a plumber."

Peter looked at me and grinned. "Nope. I'll fix it." His mouth turned down at the corners and he furrowed his eyebrows. "Do you have any tools?" He looked back inside the cabinet and up at the bottom of the sink.

"What? No. I can't let you do that. I'll just call a plumber."

He sighed exasperatedly. "Bella, if you call a plumber this'll set you back about two or three hundred bucks. They'll tell you they can't fix it until tomorrow and you'll shell out at least a hundred for labor. I'll do it for just your company and run down to Home Depot and buy what you need. That way it'll only cost you some time and thirty bucks. I'm not taking no for an answer."

And he didn't look like he would.

I laughed and looked down. I was having a hard enough time looking at him anyway. "Are you sure? I mean, this will take some time, won't it? I don't want to ruin your day."

He gave me a look like he was bothered that I had even asked. "You could never ruin my day. Besides, this will take me an hour at the most. Once it's done you won't worry about it anymore and you'll still be able to lay down for a nap. You look like you could use some more sleep."

I groaned. "It shows, I know."

"Yeah it does. It doesn't make you any less beautiful though. Where are your tools? I need to take these pipes apart. I suppose I could just rip them off, but I'd probably break your sink and cupboard at the same time," he said, wrapped up in thought.

"I've got a small tool chest out in the garage on the work bench. I don't know if you'll find everything you need, but there's a lot out there. I really do appreciate this, Peter."

I looked up at his face, and just before he stood up to go to the garage I saw a look in his dull brown eyes that I couldn't quite place.

During Christmas the year before, Charlie had come to visit. He made me take him to Sears where he bought me a small tool chest and all the tools he thought I would need - or that _he_ would need - when it came to fixing things around my house. I already had the basics, but according to him I didn't have enough. It wasn't the 'right' pair of pliers or wrench. Or I needed a stud finder. A power drill. A socket set...

I picked up the remaining towels off the floor and wiped the floor completely dry with another one. I still needed to mop, but it would have to wait until the next day. I was too busy ogling the vampire plumber.

"Bella! Where's your hammer!?" Peter yelled out from the garage.

I was taking the towels to the laundry room, which was next to my kitchen. "It's in the kitchen. The bottom drawer by the stove," I said quietly. I decided to mess with him a little bit.

"What about your tape measure?!"

"Same place," I whispered, laughing. I put the dirty towels in the washing machine.

"That's cute," he whispered in my ear. I gasped when I realized he was now standing very close at my side, but he didn't stay there long. He put a cold hand on my forearm and slid against my backside to retrieve my shoes that were sitting on the water heater. He ran his fingers down the lining of the left one, scrutinizing his own work.

"I'm glad your shoes are already here. I had a courier pick them up this morning when it was still sunny."

I poured some soap into the soap dispenser on the washing machine. "I found them in the screen door. I just put them up there. Thank you. You really didn't need to do that. Again."

He put my shoe back down and slid back behind me while grabbing a hold of my bicep. It was a small space, but he was making my blood boil with his simple touches.

He flitted back over to the kitchen sink. "It's not a problem. I was more than happy to fix them for you. Wedges support your legs and back better. Plus, you can walk around in them better than that other pair of neck breakers you were wearing the other day."

He picked up the bucket of dirty water and walked out the back door to the porch, throwing the water onto the grass. He was walking back in with a sly smile on his face and looking like Mr. Sexy Vampire Plumber Man of the Year. He looked in my eyes for a moment before I looked away. I was back in the kitchen and I grabbed the dish towel sitting on the counter to dry the rest of my dishes.

Peter knelt down and worked his way into the cupboard. "Bella, get on the left side. Hold the basket on the sink as still as you can."

"Okay."

I looked down into the sink and heard the pipe come off. I put my fingers down along the drain and did as he asked, but my hand kept slipping as he loosened the nut holding the basket on. I cursed, and then he cursed. He told me to switch over to the right side, and I had to use both hands to hold onto the basket because it was really slippery and the nut was tighter.

Peter took apart all the drain piping as I washed and dried my drip pans. He had pushed his sleeves up on his forearms, and that's when I caught sight of two gray scars on the inside of his left forearm. Two crescent marks.

All of a sudden a close thunderclap shook the house and made the power go off for a second or two. I jumped, but managed to refrain from yelling out.

"It's okay. It was three quarters of a mile away," Peter said quietly from under the sink. He came out, pulling some of the old pipe pieces with him, and grabbed a pair of pliers off the floor. He went to work removing another nut from part of the drain.

"Storms don't scare me. I like a good thunderstorm. I just get jumpy when the lightning hits close and you can feel the electricity." I pulled out one of the chairs from my small table and sat down to watch.

"Did you know you can listen for thunder after the lightning flashes and tell how close you came to getting hit?" he asked.

"You count the seconds after the flash until you hear the thunder, right?"

"Yeah, but if you don't hear it, it means you got hit. So never mind."

"That was really lame, Peter." I laughed.

Peter was laughing quietly from under the sink. He was lying back inside the cabinet awkwardly on his side, supporting his upper body with his right forearm. He was thick across the chest, so he had a hard time fitting into the small space of the right cabinet with the barrier on the front between the two cabinets. His long legs, encased in those tight fitting blue jeans, were stretched out before me.

Peter had big feet.

He started removing some screws which held down the baseboard of the cabinet.

"Why are you taking out the baseboard?" I asked.

"Well, because it's been cut out before." He shifted a little to work down the row. "The pipe's starting to rust out. Since it ain't threaded, I wanna see how hard it would be to replace it. If the pipe is jointed, I can take it off and put a new one on with no problem. If it isn't, I can put a Fernco on it. It would work alright, but not for the long term. I'd rather replace the pipe if I can."

"Oh."

He had to lean his head awkwardly to look at me with a scrutinizing look. Then he smiled somewhat cockily. "You have no idea what the hell I'm talking about, do you?"

"Sure I do. The pipe is rusting out and it's not threaded anymore. You're a pretty thorough vampire from the sounds of it, and you don't like cheesy bastards who do a piss poor job. So, if the pipe below is jointed, you can take it off and replace it with a new one. If you can't, you'll put a ferny thing on it, which would probably need to be replaced after a few years. Right?" I asked.

He had looked away to contain his laughter, midway through my spill. I had been listening to every word he had said.

I gave him a condescending look. "You know, just because I don't have a vast knowledge of the workings of a drain, it doesn't mean I couldn't figure it out. It would just take me a long time, and I can't live without my kitchen sink. I can think of other ways to spend my time," I told him as another matter of fact but with a grin.

_Like watching your ass do it..._

The view was great.

Peter was back in the cupboard, sticking his hand down the hole that led to the pipe in the foundation. "I'm sure you could. I wasn't trying to insult you. It's just that you made such a simple comment, and I couldn't resist the opportunity to maybe tease you a little bit. I'm sure you handle men's work just as easily as you handle women's work."

_Oh, no he didn't…_

"Don't worry. I'm not offended at all. In fact, I'd be the first to admit I'm prone to idiocy. Take you for instance." I made sure to smile from ear to ear.

He groaned and then chuckled under the cabinet, glancing at me and grinning kind of painfully. "I guess I deserved that."

Peter removed the pipe from the hole in the floor and wormed his way out of the cabinet. He stood up, grabbing the trash can that sat beside the wall, and started throwing old pieces of the pipe inside. He was moving just a little faster than the norm.

He took the sack out of the garbage can and took it with him when he headed through the living room to the front foyer. "Okay, I'm off to the store. I'll be back in about twenty minutes. Need me to pick up anything else?" I stood up and followed behind him.

"No, thank you, but I can take out the garbage. You don't have to do that. And wait! How much money do you think you'll need?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes, and he was definitely taking out the garbage. "Give me thirty."

"Are you sure that's all you'll need?"

"Yep."

I grabbed my purse and took out a twenty and a ten, handing it to him.

He pocketed the cash and then bent over to put his shoes on. Hikers. "I'll be back. If you feel up to it, take those baskets we took off and take some Lime-A-Way to them. And around the drain and underneath it."

He stood up when he had his laces tied, smiling wryly and flirting with his eyes. "Don't have a moment of idiocy and turn the water on."

"Ha ha."

He smiled and walked out the door. It was pouring rain; and I watched him run to his truck at human speed.

I headed back toward the kitchen to clean the sink and the baskets. I went out into the garage first and opened the garage door so he could walk in through the garage without getting so wet when he came back. I filled up the bucket with a little water, grabbed the bottle of Lime-A-Way that was sitting on the counter, a scratcher, and an old toothbrush and started cleaning the baskets of my sink.

I also caught my breath.

I needed to calm down. Once he was gone, I realized I was feeling incredibly awkward in my own home. My appearance wasn't up to par and my house wasn't exactly clean, which had led to the awkwardness I had been feeling while he was here. I realized it had only been me who was reacting this way. Peter was completely relaxed and had seemed to be in his element.

The night before, I had noticed the humanity in the way he carried himself, and today it was even apparent in my own house. Yes, he was a vampire, and of course the speed at which he worked a screwdriver or a pair of pliers was definitely above the norm, but he definitely couldn't be compared to any of the other turn-of-the-century vampires I had known. He just seemed so human.

I also needed to get my hormones in check and take the opportunity to find out more about him. But it was just so hard because he was pure eye candy. There was always a good looking guy in the bar on any given night that the other girls would take to watching, and none of the men I had tried to date could hold a candle to Peter, Jacob, or Edward. I could look at Peter all day, but I wanted to know more about him. I _needed_ to know more.

I finished the baskets and the outer edges of the sink twenty-five minutes later. Peter still wasn't back. I got down on the floor and leaned into the cabinet to work on the bottom edge of the sink, but the hard water deposits were bad there and wouldn't come off with just the scratcher and the toothbrush. I got up and went to the bathroom to retrieve a metal nail file in one of my vanity drawers figuring it might help. I took a standard screwdriver on the floor by the kitchen sink and used it to chip away at some of the more stuck-on crud too.

I was partially in the cabinet, using my right arm for leverage working on the left sink, when I was pulled out of deep thought and the task at hand.

"What're you doing, Bunny?"

I jumped out of my skin. I never heard him come in. Peter was crouched down and leaning his head into the right cupboard with a brand new, foot long pipe and a mischievous look on his face.

"Jesus. You scared me to death."

"You're not dead. Your heart's still beating…and it sounds excited. Are you excited, Bella?" he asked seductively. His lip twitched.

There was a wicked glint in his now red eyes and he was looking at me pretty intently. While they had looked a little darker last night, in the daylight they were a bright crimson. I swallowed thickly and tried to keep the heat that wanted to flush my face at bay. I failed miserably.

"Oh, shut up." I sighed out. "I'm almost finished. What are you doing?"

"Well, I'm about to stick my thick, solid pipe down your hole. Would that be okay?" He chuckled silently.

Two could play this game.

"I don't know. Will it _fit_?" I asked him in my own seductive manner with big eyes.

Peter's own eyes widened and the corner of his mouth lifted up in a sinful grin. He had such a gorgeous smile. The dimples in his cheeks were very prominent, and his strong jaw line and chin was just incredibly lickable.

"There's only one way to find out. Brace yourself, I'm coming in." He started laughing and I started to giggle.

Peter leaned in and stuck the pipe down the hole; along with his hand, to find the joint. His left shoulder was brushing along my left side as he worked to tighten and seat the pipe. His hand barely fit down the hole with the pipe as he tightened it. I watched while I finished cleaning the left drain.

When I pulled out of the cupboard to deposit the toothbrush and the scratcher in the bucket, he said, "There are a couple of bags sitting out in the garage. Could you bring them in and open up the packages for me, please? There's a sink kit and some PVC tubing out there, but I need to cut it first, so just leave it."

"How are you going to cut it? I don't have a saw."

He cursed under his breath because his hand was slipping. "I made a quick stop at home to grab mine. That's what took me so long."

"Okay."

I went to retrieve the two bags out in the garage. Peter came out a few seconds later and opened up his cargo box in the bed of the truck, pulling out his saw. It was still raining, and it sounded like another cell was getting ready to pass over. The thunder was moving closer again.

I took the bags into the house, leaving the sink drain kit he had bought and the three foot piece of PVC tubing. In the bags were different fittings for all the tubing. Something called an air admittance valve, pipe thread compound, Teflon pipe tape, and PVC glue. I sat on the floor by the left cupboard and began to take everything out of its packaging. I heard his saw start up and the dull, screeching sound of him cutting my new pipes.

Peter came back in with a concentrated look on his face. The sleeves of his shirt were pushed back up to his elbows. He sat down on the floor next to me on his shins and searched for a nut in the bag for a piece of tubing he had carried in. I started to get up to get out of his way.

"Don't get up. Just scoot over a little bit. You can help and keep me company." He glanced at me while he screwed the nut onto the end of the piece he held. He leaned into the left side of the cupboard to attach the new pipe.

"So, how is it you know how to fix this sort of thing, if you don't mind me asking? It seems like you know a thing or two about plumbing."

He was silent for just a moment as he worked on securing the pipe. "Well, all my knowledge is self taught, pretty much. Through the years I've taken correspondence courses in HVAC, plumbing, and electrical wiring. Plus, I've studied more than my share of self-help or how-to manuals. I've also been through a few classes with a special emphasis on architectural technology and engineering. Most of my experience comes from building houses. I even built my own. Have you ever heard of Fischer-Osterhoudt Architecture and Design?"

"No."

Peter slipped out of the cabinet. I was leaning against the door of the left cabinet and he leaned against the opening of the right one. He smiled. "Well, I own it. I don't run it though, I have a CEO for that, but I head Design and work mainly from my home. I funded it through less than legal means and started it up about fifteen years ago. My real last name is Fischer. It's the name I was born with when I was human."

I'm sure I looked confused. "But you said your last name was Whitlock."

He shrugged his shoulders and gave me a sorry look before grabbing the PVC glue and treating the inside of a curved portion of pipe, brushing it on. "I know. I'm sorry. It's mainly out of habit when I've had to introduce myself, and Peter Whitlock is the name I'm using right now."

He tapped his chest. "Patrick Fischer just sold the company to him four years ago. I sold it to so I can keep a low profile. I avoid appearances at board or financial meetings, and I usually stay out of the day-to-day operations. I replace the senior heads every few years, the secretaries..shell out a few severance packages, and don't work with the same contractors too long. Someone's bound to get suspicious when they see that the twenty-seven year old owner hasn't changed one bit since he took over ten years ago. Does that make sense?"

I nodded while I pondered over what he had just told me. "So your real name is actually...?"

"Peter Fischer." He took out a curved portion of pipe from the bag, along with a straighter portion and two nuts.

"Okay, but what about...Osterhoudt? Why that name?"

He was silent for a moment. I couldn't see his face because he had leaned back into the cabinet. "Osterhoudt was my wife's name. Charlotte Osterhoudt. She was killed over twenty-one years ago." He paused, and his face fell, before he moved the conversation to something much lighter.

"Anyways, it's just a little company. I design houses, Bella. My company sells my designs and oversees their development, depending on the situation or the project. We work with the government, building contractors, and realtors to get them built. My main focus for starting this company was to design storm-proof housing or buildings capable of withstanding tornado and hurricane force winds, whether they're straight or cyclonic."

Peter continued on to tell me that his 'little company' had expanded out ten years ago and they now worked with subsidiaries located throughout the southern plains of the United States, along with a few other subsidiaries on the east and west coast. They had also branched out and worked with conglomerates in foreign territories, which included Cuba, the Bahamas, Thailand, Indonesia, India, and Sri Lanka. The focus and drive that was applied to the Asian aspect was to improve building techniques that wouldn't necessarily keep buildings from ruin but to provide safe and sturdy buildings for inhabitants during cyclones and tsunamis. He stressed that his company didn't just cater to the uber rich, but that their purpose was to provide sturdy housing and developments for all walks of life.

To say I was shocked was an understatement. For one, this wasn't red-eyed, vampire behavior. Second, perhaps the most important, he had just told me he'd had a wife and she'd been killed. I could only fathom that his wife had to have been a vampire.

His _mate_.

I assumed the only way that could have happened was that she had been killed by another vampire. As much as I wanted to know how and to tell him how sorry I was for his loss, it was something he obviously didn't want to discuss at that time. I wasn't about to push the issue.

Peter's tone of voice, however, had dramatically shifted to being proud of his accomplishments when he was talking about his work. I was shocked, amazed, and curious about this part of his life. Why in the hell would a vampire who fed off of humans create a company and design homes capable of withstanding a natural disaster? What was the purpose and why did he care so much?

I hadn't realized I was so lost in thought.

"Bella?" I turned my head to look back at him. He was sitting outside the cabinet with a look of concern on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? I said your name twice. What's wrong?" His brow was furrowed and the indentation between his eyes was more pronounced. He looked worried.

"Um…yeah. I'm fine." I swallowed hard. "I'm a little..shocked, I guess. Why...why would you do that? Why does a vampire who...feeds off of the human race care about the homes they live in or where their children go to school? I mean, it's kind of nice that you do, believe me when I say that, but why would you do that? Why do you care?"

He smiled and he looked like he was about to laugh. "Well, part of the reason is it makes me a rich bastard. Very rich, and I love money. The other reason is it's something I wanted to do for a very, very long time. Since I was human. I have the skills and the means to make it happen now. Just because I'm a vampire who kills people doesn't mean I'm a ruthless bastard. I used to be human, and I don't consider myself a monster, though I am quite capable of acting like one when I need to."

There was a glint in his eye and I could hear an underlying threat in his voice. I was no fool. Peter was a vampire, and I had already seen a small glimpse of his dangerous side.

"You really don't think you're a monster?" I asked. Peter had another piece of pipe and he was attaching the air valve.

There was another moment of silence while he was under the sink before he quietly said, "Well, I am a mythological creature, which in a sense makes me one. But a monster capable of exciting horror, wickedness, and cruelty? No, not anymore. Humans would probably think we are, no matter what. It's a choice. Just like the choice the other vampires you knew made. They choose to be civilized by not taking human life, and so they feed off of animals. Maybe they choose to live amongst the human population because they find humans precious and desirable, but don't like what they are. I choose to live a civilized way _and_ feed off the human population because I _am_ a vampire."

Peter slipped back out of the cabinet and looked into my eyes. "I'm a vampire, I kill people, and I drink their blood. I won't deny myself what I need. It's my nature. I'm not gonna deny myself what I want. But I know that humans - that people like you - aren't just a food source. You have a heart, problem-solving intellect, and some of you are passionate about living meaningful lives, _and_ you're just as capable of love like we are."

He was very blunt. It was upsetting, but I also had to appreciate it. I knew I had to have been giving him a critical look.

"How do you choose? How do you decide who has the right to live or die? By scent?"

Peter was looking at me and his lips turned down into a frown. "You know, maybe this is something we shouldn't get into quite yet because I think it's a topic we won't quite agree on and we don't have enough time to go back and forth about it today. As for the reason I was driven to do what I've done, well, my reasons go back to the years I was still a human." Peter grabbed a couple more pieces of pipe and the Teflon tape before moving back into the cabinet.

I had caught several things in his statement but it was easy to see which way he wanted this conversation to go. I wasn't ready to change the subject even though it seemed like he wanted to avoid it.

"Don't change the subject. I let you get by with it once, but not again. I think we should discuss it."

He seemed intelligent enough to figure out that I was talking about his wife.

Peter leaned back out and smiled with understanding. "I know you do. But I'd rather discuss it over a game of show and tell, and right now I can't show you."

Peter held his hands up in surrender when the shock and horror I felt no doubt splattered across my face.

He let out a nervous laugh. "Whoa, calm down. There's no way in hell I'm going to show you _that_. I'm just gonna show you how I might go about finding my victims sometime, that's all. I think it's important you see it from my perspective, that way you can get an idea about how I go about finding my dinner. But only if you think you can handle doing that much. If you'd rather skip the entire fucking thing, I'd understand, Bella. I'm just trying to be as forthcoming as possible so you'll understand me and how I work." His voice had become gentle and he looked extremely wary.

Peter grabbed something out of the bag and went back to work on the drain. I was too busy staring at the floor, trying to calm my nerves.

It was quiet for a moment. Maybe a change in subject was in order because I think maybe my reaction had upset him. His left hand was clenched into a fist in the cabinet.

"So you were saying," I cleared my throat, "your reasons for doing this go back to when you were human. Why then? How much of your human life do you remember?"

"Hand me that glue and those eighteen inch pliers, please." Peter's voice was quiet but he sounded relieved also.

I handed him the can of glue and the larger set of pliers. "I remember quite a bit, actually. I was born in 1909 to Gertrude and Viktor Fischer. My parents were devout Christians who had emigrated from Germany with their own families years before. Anyways, they both came from farming families, and since that was all they knew how to do, they moved out to the Plains after hearing about America's Breadbasket.

"They settled in Codell, Kansas. They put every penny they had into twenty-five acres of rich, Kansas dirt, and my father built a small house just south of Codell. Three years later, he felt the need to build a bigger one because Mama was expecting her first child, my oldest brother, Poldi. Patrick was born two years later, and two years after that my sister, Pauline, was born. My mother was officially through with giving birth...or so she thought." He laughed to himself and smiled.

I knew I was smiling at him but I couldn't help it. He continued to talk about his family as he installed my new drain. He had retained a good portion of the memories of his childhood. Peter's mother conceived him five years after his sister was born. She had been a school teacher and a mother of four. She also worked the farm, took care of the house, and maintained a rather large garden. Peter told me he was born premature, and they estimated he was born two and a half months before he was due. The reason he thought he was born prematurely was because his mother took care of her family before she took care of herself, and she worked hard around the farm. He said he always remembered his mother telling him he had a hard time staying in one spot.

Maybe I was supposed to laugh, but I couldn't because I was thinking about his premature birth. Peter was on his knees and he was sticking the strainers in the drains. He started to fill both sinks with water.

I was still sitting on the floor by the open cabinet with my legs stretched out in front of me, looking at his ass. "I'm not trying to be rude or anything, but Peter, you shouldn't be here. Maybe ten weeks isn't a big deal these days but back then..."

Peter leaned back on his heels, looked at me, and tapped his index finger on his upper chest. His grin was ear-to-ear. "I know, Bella. You're not only going to date a great-looking vampire who happens to be a saint, but you'll be dating a medical miracle too."

I dramatically rolled my eyes at him.

Peter told me that even though he managed to survive his infancy, his premature birth had given him his share of medical problems. Peter, the human little boy, had an immunodeficiency disorder. Which kind, they weren't actually sure of, but he was constantly sick with one ailment or another and placed on primitive long term antibiotics. They also thought he was blind, but he was diagnosed with a severe case of convergence insufficiency. He owned his first pair of glasses at the age of three. His thyroid gland also didn't work properly, and he was diagnosed later on with hyperthyroidism. He used to constantly sweat, even in the winter time.

Poldi, his older brother, called him 'stinky'. His sister, Pauline, would be restricted to the house after beating on Poldi, and she would read Peter his favorite childhood book, _New Fairy Tales_ by Hans Christian Andersen.

"Which one was your favorite? The Angel, The Nightingale, or The Ugly Duckling?" I asked him. He was sitting on the floor, watching for leaks in the new drain.

Peter looked at me and smiled brightly. "The Ugly Duckling, of course. But I had to pay a steep price for the hot body I have now. I was an ugly and scrawny-looking kid. No matter how much I ate, I could never gain weight. And my head was too big, even when I was in grade school. I had to wear those thick ass glasses, and I was always sweating to death. Which one was your favorite?"

I blushed of course. He knew I was looking at him. He knew what kind of emotions and reactions his physique could cause in a woman. Maybe even in a man. But I couldn't help but give him an appalled look when he referred to himself as ugly and scrawny-looking. I'm sure his mother never thought he was less than a beautiful boy.

"The Ugly Duckling."

"Why?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's a story about a soul who finds he does not belong due to qualities that set him apart from others. He's not aware of his own beauty, as no one has ever loved or appreciated him before. But eventually he blossoms and realizes his worth. Some say it's a story of Andersen himself and that he suffered immensely for his exquisitely sensitive and poetic nature."

Peter snorted. "See, now that's the typical bullshit response I figured I'd get from you," he said, with a slight tone of disgust, and then he paused. "Not that you didn't put some collegiate thought and some intellect to it. Hell, I'm impressed."

I was still sitting on the floor and I crossed my arms over my chest. "Nice save. But would you care to explain?"

Peter grimaced and shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I was picked on a lot when I was young - not just by my brothers, but later on in life when I was placed in fucked up orphanages. I was an easy target for other kids and adults, and I was far from being found attractive by women when things - or body parts anyway - started looking up. My point is that I'm a man. We men can be just as obsessed as some of you women can be when it comes to our physical appearance. But you're right. Andersen did suffer from his sensitive and poetic nature. He was very bitter, especially about his school days. One of the schools he attended was an atrocity. His school master abused him and the school faculty had forbidden and discouraged him from writing in general. He was alienated by his classmates, and they used to beat the shit out of him and call him dumb. He wasn't dumb. He was very creative, actually. He just suffered from dyslexia. He was also considered very unattractive. Looks aren't everything, Bella." He glanced at me, a little aggravated.

"I know that, but you're saying you can relate to him?" I asked him calmly.

Peter shrugged his shoulders. His head was resting against the frame of the cabinet. "I guess so, in a fucked up kind of way. He overcame adversity and persevered, and he went on to write several well known stories and travelogues. I like to think that when he wrote that tale that he was finally dealing with some of the bitterness he still harbored. I guess it was sort of an honorable way of saying, "Look at me now, you fuckers," to those who had tried to hold him back. That's why I appreciate it now. Back then it was just a good story."

"So why was my response to your question bullshit?"

He glanced at me. "Because it sounds like you're giving a goddamn critique on the story and avoiding how it personally made you feel. And I want to bet it's because you've had difficulty with your own self confidence and self worth." Peter's look and tone were both ones of frustration.

That struck a nerve.

"I'll admit that I've had difficulty with both in the past, but it's because of the hands I was dealt. I'm way past feeling worthless and I am confident in my own skin, Peter."

Regret flashed across his face. He started to fidget his left arm and he was squeezing the knuckles of his left hand with his right.

"Good. I was just checking. I meant no offense," he murmured. He was back in the cabinet, tightening up a couple of the PVC nuts where a slow drip had appeared. I really couldn't say for sure, but he seemed nervous.

I wanted to know what the hell that exchange had been all about, but I wasn't quite sure what to say. He had only made an observation and maybe I had overreacted. He had simply stated his opinion, and I owed him an apology. The silence was more than awkward. He got back up on his knees to fill the sinks with water again.

"I know... you didn't mean to offend me, you were just stating your opinion. I overreacted and I'm sorry I snapped at you. I had no idea you felt so strongly about a children's tale. It's very admirable," I squeaked out.

I saw him chuckle under his breath. "I'm too passionate about a whole bunch of unusual things, Bunny. It's always been a weakness of mine. But it's your fault - you're the one who mentioned that story," he teased.

"It is not," I told him with fake indignation. "You're the one who mentioned that book. I just wanted to know which story you liked, is all. I could have said it's just a cute tale and that's why I liked it, but I thought you wanted a more detailed explanation."

"You're right. It is my fault." He, however, beamed victoriously. "But I probably would have given you more shit if you had told me it was _cute_." He grabbed the baseboard that he had removed and seated it back in the bottom of the cupboard to screw it back down.

It was then that I remembered what he had said earlier about being picked on when he was a child. There wasn't one thing he had mentioned that escaped my attention. And I realized that Peter was a talker and easily distracted from one subject to the next. The thing for me was that I had feelings for the little boy he told me about who was sick on a constant basis and whose sister was just as protective of him as his mother was; the boy who was now _him_. I wanted to know what happened to Peter, but I also realized that maybe it was a part of his story that I did not necessarily want to hear.

"Peter, why were you in a orphanage?" I asked. He was still leaning in the cabinet, screwing down the baseboard.

He didn't answer right away, but when he did his voice took on an informative tone.

"Well, I told you I lived in Codell, Kansas. Do you know what Codell is famous for?"

"No."

One of the screws in the back corner was giving him a hard time. He cursed before he answered. "Well, back in 1916, on May twentieth, a twister went through Codell. We watched it from the top of a hill as it made its way along the north of town. It got a couple farm houses and one man was killed. The following year, in 1917, Codell got struck by another. On the exact same day. It hit on the east side and killed two women. Anyways, after the second one hit, May twentieth became known as Cyclone Day, and on May twentieth in 1918 we were pretty sure it wasn't going to repeat itself."

Peter was on his knees and he shifted back to his shins. "Here, I'll hand you your cleaning stuff and you can put it where you want it."

I slid over and sat Indian style next to the cupboard while he started to pass me all my cleaners, which were sitting on the counter top. I knew whatever he was going to say wasn't going to be good. There was a frown on his face and his voice seemed to drop down a level.

"It was sunny out, not a cloud in the sky, and it was unseasonably cold that day. It's weird that I can still remember all that. Anyways, Papa and Poldi spent the day listing corn. Mama washed the curtains that day and baked some bread while Patrick, Pauline, and I did our daily chores. It warmed up a little during the day, so the three of us walked out into the pasture that evening to bring the cows back to the pen and the barn. That's when we noticed the clouds gathering in the southwest. Do you want these rags?"

"No, they got wet. Just leave them there. I'll wash them later." I slid over a little bit and Peter sat back down with his back to the open cabinet, stretching his long legs out and fiddling with an adjustable wrench. His eyes looked distant.

He spoke quietly, his voice reminiscent. "Papa and Poldi came home and we milked the cows. We ate supper, and by then the clouds in the sky had really billowed up. By nightfall there was definitely a storm brewing. It was cool outside, though. My parents sent us to bed at our normal bedtime, and I went to sleep just like I did any other night."

"I'm not sure what time it was when my mama woke me up." He looked over at me and smiled somewhat painfully before looking away. "You can hear them coming, you know. I could barely hear mama yelling at me to run for the cellar. Pauline grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the stairs, and I saw Mama go into Patrick's room to get him up. Papa and Poldi were behind us as we ran down the stairs. I could see lightning between the ceiling and the wall. I could smell wet plaster. And I could hear the nails being pulled from the wood. The house was flying apart. Pauline threw open the front door and we ran down the steps of the porch towards the cellar. Pauline and I could barely get the doors open. She pushed me down the stairs, and the next thing I knew she was on top me, screaming at the top of her lungs for Mama and Papa."

He was swinging the wrench back and forth by its end. "Once the twister was gone, we were hit with torrential rainfall. It rained over four inches inside that cellar and the wind was still blowing hard. Pauline and I were the only ones who survived. Her legs were cut up pretty bad. My arms were cut up too."

He kept talking. "Most of the town was obliterated. Two of the churches and Main Street was completely wiped out. Ten people in town died that night. Neighbors found us the next day. After that we were moved to the schoolhouse with some others who had lost their homes."

"I'm so sorry, Peter. My God." The compassion I felt for that little boy and his sister, after losing the rest of their family, made my chest feel heavy. How awful for him.

Peter removed his crossed arms from his chest and tentatively reached out to stroke the top of my left hand, which was resting on top of my knee. He ran his index and middle finger back and forth over my skin softly, looking at my hand.

Peter's voice was quiet and solemn. "I think he stepped out that night, but I guess that's why I do what I do. If it can be prevented, no one should ever lose their family like that. If the houses I design serve that purpose and provide protection for just a few families, then maybe I've made a difference in someone's life."

All too soon Peter pulled his hand away. He sighed loudly.

"It's a very respectable reason to do what you do. I'm sure you've already made a difference to some family in this world," I said quietly. I really didn't know what to say.

Peter smiled, but it did not reach his eyes. He looked away and he started to scrutinize something under my small, oak dining table. He grabbed the hammer off the floor and crawled over to the table, taking one of my oak chairs and laying it down on its back.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"The leg's loose and the coaster is coming off. I'm fixing it," he said.

"You don't have to do that. So...what happened to you and Pauline after that? Where did you go?"

Peter sighed and minutely shook his head. I watched him hammer down the coaster and tighten the leg of the chair.

His voice was quiet and grave. "The state became involved, of course. The destruction left Codell in ruins. Families were displaced, and since the country was in the midst of World War One, times were hard. Food was rationed and it was every family for themselves. It also didn't help our plight. The fact was we were German, and our lineage around town was well known. None of the townsfolk wanted to care for us; not that they really could. Everyone was poor, so the pastor of the church started to look for an orphanage to place us in. They ended up sending us all the way to Minnesota to a children's home in Cloquet. We left a week or so after the funeral. They buried our family under an oak tree on our land."

Peter continued talking as he slid back over and took the same spot he had been in before against the cabinet. He sat closer with his back against the cupboard. "It wasn't that bad of a place, really. Plus, it meant we could stay together. Pauline wasn't the same anymore, though. She wouldn't talk and she was withdrawn except to me of course. She still looked out for me. I wasn't doing much better myself."

He grew quiet. He was looking straight ahead, but I didn't miss the distant look in his eyes or the fact that he just looked very sad.

I already knew what happened.

Peter blinked and sighed, glancing over at me in the process. "It was October and..." 

"She died didn't she?" I said morosely. "The Cloquet Fire."

The Cloquet Fire was the worst disaster in Minnesota history, and I had read about it in my U.S. History class in college. Railroad sparks from a train had started the fire. I remember reading about a large children's home that was completely destroyed in the blaze, along with the towns of Cloquet and Moose Lake. There were other towns but they escaped my memory. All I remember was the loss of life had been devastating, and the charred bodies were everywhere, even in the streets.

Peter looked at me and nodded. "Yeah. We were all settled into our rooms for the night. The wind was blowing like hell. The fire burned through the forest in a flash and engulfed the building in flames. We made it out. The entire town was on fire, and someone told us to head to the train depot. The train that started the fire was still at the station and it was the only way to get out of there. We were put on one of the flat bed rail cars. I can remember the screaming. I remember it felt like my skin was literally boiling. We were passing by some sort of fuel storage tank when it exploded. I was sitting beside Pauline, and she was sitting on the edge of the car. She was trying to protect me from the fire, but her legs were burning. The explosion knocked people off, killing them, including my sister. I tried to jump, but some lady grabbed me and pulled me back. The train kept moving and I watched my sister burn to death."

"Jesus Christ." I felt a chill run down my spine and my body turned into one large shuddering goose bump.

He laughed short. "He wasn't there. After that, I was transferred to the catholic orphanage in Saint James. Now that was ironic as hell; because after that I pretty much hated the son of a bitch and the people there were pretty mean. Anyways, that's where I remained for the rest of my childhood. Would you believe that with everything that happened that year, I still managed to escape being a victim of the Spanish Influenza?"

I could hear him but I was still reeling from everyone and everything that he'd lost. I was to the point where I wanted to cry for that little boy, and I was talking more to myself than to anyone else. "That...poor little boy. I mean..._you_. You lost _everyone_."

Peter gave me a blank look, and then he smiled and chuckled lightly. There was grief in his eyes at first before they turned mischievous. "Now you see, I've maybe told that story to three of you women folk, and you all have the same reaction. You all would just love to take that little boy and wrap him up in your arms and never let him go."

He paused and lifted his eyebrows. "You know, I wouldn't have a problem with that. Feel free to wrap me up and hold me close. Hold me really, _really _close. I'll snuggle right in." He wiggled his eyebrows and started to chuckle.

My head was resting against the back of the cabinet and I just shook my head. "You're awful. Be serious. You went through so much."

He gave me an intense look. "I am being serious. But Bella, it was ninety-one years ago. I don't recall a whole bunch and the memories and feelings have faded. It doesn't affect me like it used to."

I was still feeling a little emotional over that little boy. Over Peter. The tears had stayed at bay but I became aggravated because that was a lie.

"Now that's bullshit. Maybe time has gone by but you just described your house and your family to me in detail, and I very much doubt the pain and the loss you felt back then were forgotten too. You still miss them."

Peter was silent for a moment. He blinked a couple of times and he smiled. It did not reach his eyes. "You're perceptive, and maybe you're right."

He looked at me for a moment, not saying anything. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

He shook his head back and forth minutely to empty his mind. "That's enough about me now. Tell me about you. Where's your family? I've never heard you talk about them and the only one who has visited you is Debbie. Where do you come from?"

I sat up and curled my knees up. I looked away from Peter's face and looked at the floor in front of me. "Um, well, I'm an only child. My dad, Charlie, is the police chief up in Forks, Washington, and he's lived there almost all his life. That's...that's where I lived before I came here, and that's where I met the Cullens. Anyways, he lives there now with his wife, Sue, and her son, Seth. Sue has a daughter named Leah and she just got married a short time ago. She lives close by in La Push, which is on the Quileute Indian reservation. Sue, Seth, and Leah are all Quileutes."

"Were you born and raised there?" he asked.

I looked over at him and nodded. "Yeah. My parents married each other right out of high school. My mom hated Forks and they got divorced when I was still a baby. She found Forks...suffocating. So, mom took me to Riverside, California. She went to college and worked while my grandparents helped take care of me. My mom was a schoolteacher too." I looked at him and smiled. Peter smiled back.

"My mom grew up in Phoenix. She loved it so much that she decided she wanted to go back, so she found a third grade teaching position and we moved there when I was five. I used to visit Charlie during the summer up in Forks. My mom, she…um...got remarried in 2005. Phil used to play minor league baseball and he had to travel a lot, so I moved back to Forks and lived with Charlie so she could travel with him."

I looked over at Peter and he was smiling, but something was off about it. He asked, "Was it your choice to go and live with your dad?"

I nodded. "Yes, of course. She didn't want me to go, and I didn't want to go for the most part. But I saw how happy she was with Phil, and she missed him terribly when he was away. So I decided I'd go finish high school in Forks and live with Charlie so she could travel with him."

"That must have been a hard decision for you to make. You lived in Phoenix for a long time," Peter said.

I thought for a moment. "It was. But the thing was my mom was a little on the eccentric side. She always wanted to try new things. She loved to travel. When Phil came along, I was a little jealous, but he made her happy. Yes, he took some of the time I had with my mom away, but he also took care of her_._ He loved her." I shrugged. I swallowed a lump in the back of my throat. Actually, my throat felt like it was closing off.

My voice was sounding thick and I couldn't look at him anymore. "And I think that if I wouldn't have come up with the idea to live with Charlie, that maybe over time she might have resented me a little for the time I took her away from Phil. Does that make sense?"

It was silent for a moment before Peter responded, and he took another direction. "What was it like living with your dad? What's he like?"

I sighed. "Charlie was _very_ easy to live with. We both pretty much liked to keep to ourselves, and we're both pretty independent people. When I moved back there, my dad was still single. Sue was married before to Harry Clearwater but he had a heart attack when..." I shook my head to refocus. I was getting lost in the past.

"Anyways, when it comes to being passionate about anything, my dad is passionate about work and fishing - not to mention Sue's cooking," I smiled at Peter. "She's a better cook than I am. My dad's a quiet guy, keeps to himself a lot, but he's no idiot and he's very perceptive. When I lived with him I would see him at night around dinnertime and a little bit in the mornings. It worked for both of us, really. Some might think our relationship is dysfunctional because neither one of us are very affectionate with each other. It was the total opposite with my Mom. And it's not that we haven't had our moments, we've had a few. But I don't think either one of us would ask for a better relationship with the other. I wouldn't change a thing about it."

I looked up at Peter, who had shifted a little. He was closer and leaning forward with his knees propped up and his arms relaxing on his kneecaps. He was staring at me softly. I looked back down to the floor.

"Sometimes it's the simplest of gestures that show our love for one another. The words don't need to be said because we can feel it in our hearts. That's a kind of love that never dies. I bet he didn't even hesitate when you asked to come and live with him, did he?" he asked quietly.

I smiled to myself. "No. Charlie asked me when I was coming and he told me to tell my mom to go buy me a coat, but he would take care of the rest."

Peter breathed out a chuckle. I glanced at him and smiled. There was still something off about his.

It grew quiet for a few moments. I noticed it was still raining, but it was a light rain and the wind was no longer blowing. The soft rain hitting the roof and the windows did not alleviate the overwhelming tension that had built up inside of me from the new route our conversation had taken. I was finding it difficult to breathe, and I noticed I was fidgeting quite a lot with my hands, pulling at a loose thread on the seam of my pant leg.

There was also this persistent fucking lump in the back of my throat, and my chest felt extremely tight.

"When did your mom pass away?" Peter asked gently.

"Um, back in November of 2007," I answered.

"How did she die?" Peter asked.

It just all came tumbling out.

"Phil took her on vacation down to Cancun that October to celebrate his being hired as one of the assistant coaches for the Tampa Bay Rays. A couple weeks later she got sick."

I felt a tingling sensation travel up my spine and it made me pause for a moment.

"She told me it was just the flu. My mom was an idiot. She was into _herbal healing _and the benefits of all that crap, so even when Phil told her she needed to go to the doctor, she just blew it off and said all she needed was time. Usually for my mother it was just 'go, go, go', at least where I was concerned. I still don't understand how she could have been so stupid..." I paused so I could swallow.

"Anyways…" My voice sounded pathetic and thick. "She was sick for about two weeks before she finally collapsed one morning when she woke up. Phil called 911 and they put her in the ICU in Jacksonville."

I stopped and swallowed hard. I didn't know why this was so difficult. It wasn't like I hadn't cried over and over again once I got home from Jacksonville. It was quiet again and I assumed Peter was waiting for me to continue. I didn't look at him but I knew he hadn't moved.

I was much calmer after a couple breaths, but saliva was pooling in my mouth, badly.

"She had pneumonia in both lungs. It was very aggressive and they couldn't stay ahead of it. Nothing worked. The doctors told Phil and me that we needed to be prepared in case her heart gave out because she started experiencing episodes of tachycardia from the stress on her lungs. After twelve days she started to improve a little. They even took her off the ventilator. The next night she had to go back on it again, and that was… when her heart... Excuse me."

I had to get up because the tears were going to fall and I was really going to lose it. Maybe it was because Peter's story had affected me and I was still emotional over that little boy. Maybe it was because it was close to that time of the month. All I knew at that point was that I couldn't sit on that floor anymore.

I pushed off the floor with my hands to stand up and the next thing I knew I was against Peter's chest, my arms pinned to my sides, and I was sitting awkwardly.

"Peter, what are you doing?!" I cried out.

I struggled, however futilely, to remove myself because at that point he moved us and I was on my shins. Peter's rock hard arms were wrapped around one of mine, pinning it to my side, and he was holding the side of my head against his broad chest. He was so cold and he was holding me there. He was holding me in his arms.

He tilted his head down and he whispered in my ear. "I'm holding you. I'm holding you because you didn't let anyone else hold you like this after she died. I'm right, aren't I? I'm holding you because for once somebody needs to take care of you. So let it go. Scream and yell if you have to. And don't worry if the feelings don't go away soon. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."

So I did.

I cried and cried and just let it all out. The grief was poison in my blood, and in my heart. He moved again and my right arm which had been pinned, fisted in his shirt against his chest.

When Renee died it made me realize how precious life really was, but it also broke my heart. I loved my mother. She _was_ my mother, who loved me in her own unique ways. Her and Charlie had been far from perfect, but they loved me just the same. Even if they weren't always with me, they were still a significant part of my life. And when she died she was just _gone_. I couldn't talk to her anymore. I couldn't see her anymore. And the gap inside my heart from missing who had always been in my life could never be filled by anyone ever again. It was her space, and she was gone. Maybe that was why it was so traumatic.

At my mom's funeral, I cried for her loss. But even at a funeral you can never really come to terms with your grief. Charlie had flown down, and he was most supportive at that time, but I wouldn't let myself fall completely apart in front of Charlie or Phil.

Debbie kept me busy, and day by day things seem to get better, mostly because I kept myself busy. I kept my mind focused on work, on school, on anything _else_. I never really let the emotion of it all out for someone else to see; or feel.

Peter's childhood had brought all those emotions I'd hidden away back to the forefront of my mind, and maybe reflecting on my parent's life let a wave crash over. I felt terrible for doing that to him, for putting him in that position, because who had been there for him? Who'd held that little boy and shared in his pain?

His arms were like a cage from which I did not want to break free. He rubbed the length of my back up and down in a soothing fashion. He never said another word. The measure of relief I felt from just this simple act of comfort could not be compared to anything else because the reason these arms were holding me was so different. I relaxed into him and I'm sure he could feel my weight, but he was superhuman and he could take it. My defenses were down and the tension I had felt was just gone. It was gone, and it was just an overwhelming relief that I could fill my lungs with fresh air.

I was putty in his cool hands and against his cool body. I liked being putty. And I loved being held by him.

My tears were soaking his shirt and my nose was running. I didn't want to pull away for several reasons. One, it just felt so good to be held. Two, I was sure my face would be all blotchy and I knew my eyes would be swelled up so badly that I'd make a sixty year old woman with no Botox look good.

But it was coming to that point because I was through crying, and now my body was just wracked with involuntary shudders and hicups. And even though I didn't care about it before, it was embarrassing when it was all over with.

Still, I couldn't hold on to him forever, even though the thought was awfully promising. So when I lifted my head off his chest, he pulled back some and I looked up at him. Peter was straddling my knees, which were together as I sat on my shins, and his face was remarkably close. His eyes were beautiful and even a little frightening up close. More than one color of red, and full of depth.

I couldn't even begin to fathom everything they had seen. They were slightly dilated, but they burned with intensity. I could see the concern in his face, but there was also tenderness there. But there was more. It was almost as if it all had been just as equally hard on him as it had been for me.

Nothing was said and it was quiet, with only the sound of the light rain hitting the roof and the ground. Somewhere in the distance I heard the resounding rumble of thunder. I looked at every part of his face, but mostly his eyes. I watched him take in a breath as I exhaled a long one. I still couldn't breathe through my nose.

He unwrapped his arms from me and moved his hands up to hold my face. His cold palms held my cheeks and his fingers splayed out in my hair. I was looking at his lips when he cautiously bent closer to my face and softly kissed my left eye when it closed. My heart was pounding fiercely and I felt a chill run down my spine; not the kind you would feel from fear, but the chill that wakes up every nerve in your body from a lover's touch.

His lips pulled back and he softly kissed my right eye, and when he pulled back again I opened them. The tenderness was still there. His full lips were slightly parted as he breathed; and then he licked his lips.

I studied his face but mostly his eyes as I tentatively stretched my neck up. I wanted to kiss him. I brushed my lips against his. Cool and soft. I pulled back once I realized what I had done.

His pupils dilated right before my eyes, liquid red consumed by hard black. The tenderness fell away from his face. It was replaced with hard determination; and I gasped and his lips crashed down on mine. Hard, yet soft.

They moved with intensity, and my own quickly caught up to the frantic pace of his kiss. His lips were hard, yet they moved with softness as they seemed to beg for more. I let out a whimper, and Peter's own response was one of pure need. He ran his cold tongue over my upper lip and I gasped. He took the opportunity.

I was a little taken aback once his tongue entered my mouth. I knew kissing him like that wasn't safe. At least I thought I knew. At least that's what I had been told. I didn't respond immediately, and Peter started to pull back. Our lips barely separated and he opened his hungry eyes and looked into mine.

It was in that one instant, that one perfect moment when you look into anothers eyes and know that this is the kiss you've waited all your life for and there's nothing else, no one else that you can compare it to.

It was beautiful. It was pure, unadulterated bliss, and I didn't want it to stop. I threw myself back into that kiss with as much emotion and fervor because I didn't want that moment to end.

I didn't give a shit at that point that I was kissing a man I barely even knew. I didn't worry anymore that it would just all come to an end and once again I would be left alone. Maybe I was being irrational. Maybe we both were. All I knew was this man cared for me and I cared about him too.

And it was the kiss. The kiss that I would always remember.

I also knew the taste of his venom was mind blowing. It was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted and I couldn't get enough of it. I couldn't describe it because there was nothing to compare it to. It was starting to numb my mouth, but I didn't care.

Peter moved his right hand to the back of my head and he fisted the hair at the nape of my neck; holding me to him. His left hand made a trail down the exposed skin of my arm. I was on my knees, running my hands frantically over the hard and sculpted plains of his chest, which was covered by his shirt. I didn't think about it at all; I pulled his shirt out of his pants and put my hand underneath it to touch him. He groaned inside my mouth.

He felt wonderful. Hard and cold as granite. I ran my hand up his abdomen to his chest, Every plain of muscle needed to be explored by my fingers, because he was with do doubt just as impressive as he looked _with_ his clothes on. I touched as much of him as I could. I was so far gone that I didn't care that my hand was feeling portions of his skin that were slightly raised, scars from the part of his past I didn't know about yet.

My left hand had found his right bicep and shoulder. I gripped at his arm and shoulder every time his tongue pulsed in my mouth and explored.

Peter's hand traveled down the length of my arm and sent a wave of heat and a surge of electricity to every nerve ending in my body. I moaned into his mouth and he answered back with a deep, reverberating growl.

A growl.

He ran his hand down my outer thigh and down to my butt, gripping my flesh firmly while he pulled me as close as he could. He ran his hand up and down my ass and thigh before he finally gripped the back of my thigh, just above my bent knee. He lifted me up and spread my leg while he fell back to rest on his shins. I straddled his lap, wrapping my legs around him, and our bodies connected together.

He would pull back every now and then so I could take a breath, only to seek out the inside of his mouth again with just as much passion and fervor. My heart was beating so fast and thudding so heavily that I almost couldn't hear anything else. Moans were whispered and groans were felt more than heard. My breasts came alive and I literally could feel my nipples harden against him. The frantic pace of our kiss lessened but the passion involved increased.

It was by far the most perfect kiss I had ever experienced. I pulled his pulsing tongue deeper into my mouth, and Peter responded by giving me more of it. He ran it over my teeth, across the roof of my mouth, and he dominated me. I didn't want it to end.

Peter slid the hand that was fisting my hair down my back and to my left hip. Both of his hands pushed down on my hips and our pelvic regions ground together. He undulated underneath me, letting go of my mouth for a second so I could let out a breathy moan. The heat that ran through me also ran between my legs and I knew that even though I couldn't smell it, he could.

Maybe that was what urged him further to grind himself up against my core. Our clothes were the barrier between us, and the ache between my thighs was growing in intensity and in need of release.

That was when I felt...well, I felt Peter's _peter_. And I wasn't sure whether to feel very afraid or very lucky that he cared for me, and that he, too, wanted to be with me. Of course I wasn't sure just how large the man was, but that hard bulge couldn't be mistaken for anything else. Peter was packing. It was just another bonus and quality of the broken and fragile boy who survived his childhood under the most heartbreaking circumstances. He'd been picked on by those who thought themselves to be his peers. I hated them. I loved that boy, and just maybe I would be lucky enough to love the man he'd turned out to be.

Maybe it's true that all good things come to an end, but I refused to give it any thought when Peter ended that kiss. His whole body seemed to flinch, but he wasn't flinching away from me. I was fairly confident that it was because one of us had to show some type of control, and I had thrown mine out the window.

His hands, which had been pushing firmly down on my hips, were gone and now wrapped under my arms and around my back. He was panting, and he laid his forehead on my shoulder to catch his unneeded breath. I smiled slightly to myself that I was capable of making him breathless.

I leaned my head into his and caught my own breath, trying to keep the nervousness I suddenly felt from showing. I didn't know what to say. I guess you can pretty much say that was when the weight of what had just happened came crashing down. We hadn't even been on our first date yet. I didn't care, but maybe he did.

Peter moved with exaggerated slowness as he lifted his head off my shoulder. I was suddenly very nervous. Peter was looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

He spoke very quietly. "Well, now." He cleared his throat and sighed. I couldn't figure out what he was thinking or feeling because his facial expressions were changing at an alarming rate. His face then took on a blank look.

It took him a moment to respond again, and when he did he finally looked at me fully. He raised his eyebrows. "Feel better?"

"Um..." I didn't know what to say, but he interuppted me.

"Bella, I apologize," he said warily. "That was very wrong of me to take advantage of you and the situation like that?"

He didn't look sorry, and obviously he wasn't or I don't think he would have asked like that. But he was nervous too. I wanted to laugh, but...

"Peter, you didn't take advantage of me. It was clearly my fault. I'm the one who technically kissed you first," I said very seriously.

He wrinkled the corner of his lip, scrunched up his eyebrows, and thought about that.

He kissed my cheek hard and pulled back to glare at me. "You're right, it is your fault. How dare you take advantage me like that. I was feeling vulnerable and you used the situation to get what you wanted. Really, Bella, you should be ashamed," he scolded.

It was a pretty shitty attempt at feigned anger. Maybe it might have helped his case if he had unwrapped his arms from me, but he was still holding me close. And I was still straddling his lap.

And he rolled his hips, groaning under his breath.

I kept a straight face and turned red at the thought of his vulnerable cock still resting against my core. "I promise to let it…I mean, not let it happen again. I'm so ashamed of my actions, Peter. Please forgive me."

He looked down with mock hurt and kept his beautiful red eyes on my shoulder. "Alright, I forgive you. Just don't think I'm going to kiss you tomorrow night. Like I told you before, I don't put out on the first date."

"Okay." I didn't mean for it to sound so enthusiastic, but it did.

Peter glared at me, and gave me a little scolding shake.

"I mean it, Bella. You can hang all over me and nibble on my ear as much as you want. I still won't give into you."

He paused and raised his eyebrows before his face turned to one of expectancy.

"Wanna test me?" he asked hopefully.

And I laughed like I haven't laughed in years.


	8. Chapter 7 Angel

Chapter 7. Angel

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

"Walk me out?"

She smiled a little before she bit her lip and looked down. "Yeah, I'd love to."

The corner of her left bottom lip wouldn't lift up all the way. It was looking a little rough. She was biting the goddamn thing too much. Honestly, I wish she'd just go back to biting her nails off or something, or clipping her toenails too short. That sucker had a tendency to droop when she worried it too much, and there wasn't anything sexy about it when it was all raw and loose skin was hanging off it.

I took her hand and led the way out of her kitchen to my truck. I _really_ wanted to kiss her again, and I didn't want to leave. In fact, leaving her alone seemed like the worst thing to do, but it wasn't like I could tell her that. I couldn't.

I had this thing about leaving her. Even the words had so many meanings for me. How many times was I going to have to do it, especially now that everything had changed? I was so sick and fucking tired of it. I hated it.

I had to leave her the night before, and I had to let go of her three days after her eighteenth birthday. I had even had to leave her when she was three years old.

It seemed like I was always leaving her or letting go of her. It was never easy. Everything had changed, and there was a possibility that I would have to let go of her forever. But there was no way in hell that I would ever let that happen.

I pushed the thoughts aside because as perceptive as she was, she would see right through me and know that something wasn't sitting right. As the years went by, I had seen my own reflection at the thought of letting go of her - and I wasn't pretty.

Nothing pissed me off more than the number of times I've had to let go of Bella, whether physically or emotionally. But I had to let her live her life so I could be with her when it was time to be with her. She had to be ready for me. And she was ready for me. I had to believe that, even though that future was no longer certain.

I wondered when everything was said and done, if she would have realized just how many times I had actually let her fall – emotionally, _and_ physically. Even I would have been able to stop that shit.

I had left her to her life for the most part.

But on this day, I just had to go with the flow, and I thought about the petite, mahogany-haired beauty walking by my side who was trying to hide her nervousness and failing miserably. I let the smile wash over my face, when the truth was I wanted to burst out into laughter because I knew her, and I had a fairly good idea about what she was thinking about.

_I kissed him. I even humped him. Oh, my GOD. He can probably smell it._

Yeah, I could.And, yeah, she did. Maybe those weren't her thoughts completely, but I had a knack for reading her like an open book.

Bella was my savior; and one of two women I had ever loved in my entire lifetime. But she was still just a woman, and a young and horny woman at that. She was a woman whose panties were still wet—and _GOD__..._how I wanted to _love_ that. I wanted to taste it and swallow every drop she offered. I wanted to sink into her and never let go.

That's what I wanted, but what I wanted I didn't always get. I had just about let go of my wad sitting there on her kitchen floor during the best and briefest dry fuck of my entire life. And I was still going to have to hold on to that fucker until I got home.

It wasn't like I hadn't had to do it before. That was a fact. The truth was when you took the fact that I loved her out of the equation, I was just another sexually-deprived vampire; or man; who was really accustomed to jerking his own dick. Or Schplitzing the Schmeckal, as Patrick used to call it.

Bella and her unexpected plumbing issue had me sifting through faded memories I hadn't thought about for a long time, and I remembered then that was what he'd called it when he caught Poldi in the hayloft.

It had been a while since I had thought about all that. There was so much more that I had forgotten.

The point was as prepared as I could have been for Bella, it wasn't going to matter. Her body excited me and years and years of pent up, sexual frustration was robbing me of control, when nothing really had happened yet. There was no way our first attempt was going to have any longevity to it. It didn't matter if my dick was made of stone or not. Her touching me, wherever, made me weak and at her mercy.

Still, I wanted so badly to make love to her. I wanted to show her how much I loved her. That was only if she would be able to find a way to forgive me and and to see past the error I had made when our future had been so clear. It wasn't clear anymore, so anything was possible.

Somebody had a sick fucking sense of humor.

At the time, though, I wasn't sure what Bella was thinking, and just maybe we had both crossed a line that wasn't ready to be crossed quite yet.

I could see her face as we walked to the truck and I didn't believe that. She looked pretty content for the most part. But still, I had to ask. I needed to. Because no matter what, her being comfortable was of the utmost importance.

When I first saw her that day, I really had to distract myself from going hard right in front of her. Nobody but Bella had the power to cause physical attraction in me by wearing a shitty, old, dark green T-shirt and a pair of faded, black sweats, which exposed her abdomen and a little bit of her hips. She had that pair for three years. They had been washed so many times that they had shrunk and formed to her ass and thighs. There was even a small hole down in the crotch and the threads were starting to pull apart along her ass.

My dick twitched. I just loved those pants.

My desire for her was getting out of hand. There were a few different ways I had wanted to violate her when I first saw her that day. One of those ways could have played out on her kitchen floor. But I wanted her in my bed; not on cold linoleum. Or I wanted her in _her_ bed; where time could stop for the both of us for a while.

I was already hers. If only she knew that.

The storm had passed and a light mist was falling around us from the gray sky above. It was oddly quiet, even with the racket of tiny drops hitting the surface of my truck, the concrete driveway, and the leaves in her trees. It was peaceful. It was also a little chilly out. For her.

I kept a hold of her left hand down at my side and I turned to face her when we reached my truck door. There was an odd but calming surrealistic air that had surrounded us for the past two hours, and it was still lingering.

Even to that day, I still couldn't get over the fact that I had watched that girl grow and mature into the woman she was. Her hair was messed up; she had slept on it wet the night before, but she had tried to tame it down before I had come over. I could tell.

Our little escapade in the kitchen probably hadn't helped matters either. I liked feeling it in my hands, and on my skin. It made me mad when she cut it, because I had loved the length. But I could see more of her face, which had thinned the last three years, and made her features look more prominent. She really couldn't hide behind her hair anymore.

I spent several moments thinking about that kiss. It was everything I had hoped it would be and more. My desire for her had skyrocketed. Every cell within me seemed to explode and I had never felt more _alive. _The only thing was the time and place had changed.

She looked at me speculatively. Her eyebrows furrowed and the dimple between her eyes became even more pronounced. She was trying to figure out what the hell I was smiling about.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing. But I'm gonna be serious here for a minute." I paused and gave her a serious look. "I don't...I don't want you to feel awkward about kissing me. If this is moving too fast for you and you need me to back off a little, just say it."

She looked down at the wet ground and I watched her lick her lips. She took a moment to figure out how she wanted to say that it wasn't an issue. She was so readable whenever she was like that. She brought her head back up and looked over at her Mama's stone in her garden.

"Are you sorry you kissed me?" She asked quietly. She looked back up into my eyes and tried to search out the answer in them. I loved watching her do that to other people, and I loved watching her trying to do it to me.

I shrugged. "Nope. I like kissing you. Sloppy or not, you're pretty delectable."

I also loved watching the blood flow up in her jugular through the thin layers of her translucent skin. It really was amazing how quickly her body could react. My gland kicked into gear and...

"You asshole! Now I'm a sloppy kisser?!"

I love it when she was angry, too. Her muscles tensed and she tried to pull her hand away from mine. I wouldn't let her.

I laughed under my breath and gave her the biggest grin I could manage before I stared her down with intent. I locked the hand I was holding and the arm attached to it down at her side and moved closer to her.

"A man had given all other bliss, and all his worldly worth for this, to waste his whole heart in one kiss, upon her perfect lips."

She melted. Gone was the anger and embarrassment that had been building up. Those eyes, which could burn a hole right through my heart softened; and she was blushing. Her heart was about to beat out of her chest, its constant thrumming singing to my own lifeless heart.

She smiled and looked away shyly, biting that fat lip.

"Tennyson," she said quietly.

"Yeah. Tennyson. You've managed to thwart my ability to find my own words with that kiss, but I'll find them eventually. You didn't answer my question. Are you uncomfortable with me kissing you or not? I'm an affectionate person, Bella. I've been without female companionship for way too long, and I just need to know."

I knew she wasn't uncomfortable, but I wanted her to say something. Twice I had felt the need to kiss her that day, and each time I had kissed her she had put her growing feelings for me into it. Even if she didn't know it yet, her soul was just as tied to mine as mine was tied to hers. But in her mind, she wasn't yet ready to fall.

She was scared of falling in love again. But once she did, there would be no going back. If the future had played itself out like it should have, she would have told me she loved me six weeks from now. But everything was changing. It was accelerating, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And the truth was, even though I didn't know what would happen anymore, a part of me didn't _want_ to stop it.

But I just might have been putting an end to it tomorrow, and that thought scared the shit out of me.

I watched her face as she tried to find the words to express what she couldn't say outright. She started to say something, but then she clamped down. She had bared her soul enough for one day, and I wasn't going to push it. Maybe I shouldn't have kissed her again, but she looked so happy and her guard was still down. The moment had called for it.

She had let go of some of the anger she felt over Renee's choices, and she had released some of the loss she felt when her mother had died. She had opened the door to her heart just a crack, but long enough for me to put my foot inside. But then she kicked me out. She wasn't ready to take me on a tour of everything else she held within it, and she really needed to know _my_ heart first.

She was grimacing something terrible before she finally looked back up. She took a deep breath and let it out. I couldn't have imagined what Edward must have gone through whenever she had done that. Her scent was never to be taken lightly, not even by a bloodsucker like me. I swallowed back a gush of venom. I was used to her scent, but the proximity was something new. It was thick and heady, but I loved the burn it provoked.

"I'm not uncomfortable with you kissing me at all. I like kissing you. A lot," she said, she really was having a hard time catching her breath.

Bella took another breath. Her heart was just racing. "The way you taste…the way you kissed me the first time…it was...I just…ugh. I don't mind. I don't mind at all."

She blushed. It spread from her face, down to her neck, and then over her collar bones. She was a bundle of nerves just waiting to be flicked and licked.

I wanted to know what she was going to say, and I was really curious as to why she thought she could taste me. Nobody could 'taste' me. Nobody could smell me. I didn't have scent glands. She was an imaginative little thing, even when she had been a child.

I gave her an evil grin and moved a little bit closer. Her heart stuttered and her skin prickled.

"It was what? Tell me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No." She tried to glare at me.

I blew some air into her face and gave her the best come-hither look I could muster. "Just say it, Bella. It was what?"

She audibly sighed. Every follicle on her body stood at attention and her chocolate eyes were fathomless. She looked down for a moment, and when she looked back up she had a calculating but defeated expression on her face. She was nervous as hell.

"Give me a kiss, and to that kiss a score. Then to that twenty, add a hundred more. A thousand to that hundred. So kiss on, to make that thousand up a million. Treble that million, and when…and when that is..." She visibly shook and swallowed hard.

"And when that is done, let's kiss afresh, as when we first begun. Nobody could quote Herrick better than that."

We were talking in poetry. Mainly because we were talking about what we liked to read as we had cleaned up the rest of the mess in her kitchen.

She raised her eyebrows but smiled. "Satisfied?"

"Not yet."

I dropped her hand and grabbed her by her waist, crushing her to me. Immediately I felt the searing warmth from her hands, which had come to rest on my chest, and it traveled through my torso and right into my heart. Her lips were like a flame pressing against mine. She responded rather quickly. I took her bottom lip between mine and tugged it lightly. She gasped and I pulled away.

I let go of her and opened the door to my truck. I saw a flash of disappointment on her face, but then she smiled and looked away.

"I'll treble it later. If I keep kissing you, I won't be able to stop. Besides, you need a nap. I sure as hell don't want to be responsible for you being late tonight. If you are, you might have to park on the street."

I didn't approve of that, at all. I hated that fucking dive she worked at, and I still needed to drop Billy's wife's letter at the goddamn Post Office. Billy had some old assault cases in his name and birth date, and I had to wonder if the guy was maybe an alcoholic because they seemed to stem from bar altercations. He was going on my watch list.

Bella sighed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting back and forth on her feet. She gave me a smile that almost melted my resolve to get into the truck and drive away. I was letting her go. Again.

"Thank you so much, Peter, for fixing my sink. For everything." I saw her swallow hard.

I think I knew at that moment how tomorrow night would go when I told her about one of my lies.

Her telling Debbie was one thing, but for her to bare her heart to me would take a lot out of her. She had run away from her past, expecting to escape it. She hadn't been able to deal with the heartache anymore, and could I blame her? No. But I had no doubt that now that the future was uncertain, Bella Swan would try and run away from me tomorrow night. And I couldn't let that happen. I _wouldn't_ let that happen, one way or the other.

"You're welcome. I'll see you tomorrow night. Have a good night at work. Try not to think about me too much."

I smiled at her, shut the door, and started the truck. She stood there, glowering at me and trying not to smile, and flipped me off. I laughed with her through the window and she put her hand up to wave goodbye.

I pulled out of her driveway, watching her watch me. I put the truck in drive and slowly made my way to her street corner. I had to get to the store and then go home. I hadn't lied to Bella when I'd told her I had to finish some development plans. I needed to get them done and I needed to get them done tonight.

I turned right, and once again she was out of sight, but never out of my mind.

How do you tell someone that you had witnessed the entire course of their life before it had ever happened? How do you tell someone that you were dying, and instead of your life flashing before your eyes, hers did? How the fuck is one really supposed to do that? I used to know how, but the question was would I still? For some reason at that time, I didn't think I would.

The reality of the matter was Bella Swan had been in my mind for the past twenty-one years, seven months, sixteen days, four hours, eighteen minutes, and thirty-nine seconds.

I thought about the first time I saw her. A lot. That was the moment that changed the course of my life forever. There wasn't a time or even a fraction of a second when my mind wasn't focused on a part of her life.

There also wasn't a time when my mind had forgotten who and what had brought her into my life, and the truth of the matter was I could never forget Charlotte and everything she had given me. Even in death.

On the day Charlotte was taken from me - the day her life on earth ended - Isabella Swan was a vision. She was a dream that I never thought was possible for someone like me to have.

Twenty-one years ago she was given to me, and she became the means to slay the careless monster who destroyed everyone - and everything - in its path. But at first, she was a creation of my own mind. She was just an illusion - something I had created to push the thing I had become into a locked cage. I was insane, heartless, and careless, but a part of me didn't want to be.

At least that's what I had thought back then. It wasn't until the first time I saw everything she'd become that I stopped killing anyone who was unfortunate enough to walk into my line of sight. No one wanted to be in Mexico, in the Sierra Occidental, or anywhere near there back in 1987.

Back then, I didn't believe that the little girl would grow into this woman would eventually keep the light of her soul in my darkened heart. I was forever to be hers as she was to be mine. But I was more hers because she was a woman, and they were to be denied nothing. Besides that fact, there was nothing I would ever deny Bella anyway. Nothing.

Bella was my gift. At least that's what I believed. There was no other explanation for it. Bella was my gift because twenty-one years ago the one person who had faith and was restoring my faith in God; a woman I loved and breathed; was destroyed by an evil cunt.

And to prove to me, to show me that all things happen for a reason and that God and angels did exist in the vast universe, Charlotte gave me Bella. She gave me hope. She gave me a reason to exist and to exist happily ever after, even without her. How or why she had that power and chose to give me that gift, I would never know.

But I did know I was supposed to live. That was what she had wanted the most. I might have been technically dead, but I still 'lived'.

I also knew my first wife. She was just as self-sacrificing as I was. She was just as self-sacrificing as Bella was. She wouldn't have been able to stand seeing me unhappy or alone, or inflicting cruelty that the world had seemed to inflict upon us. She probably couldn't stand to watch me fall apart, which was what I did.

There was a time long ago when I thought the reason I was given Charlotte was because of the sacrifices my family had made for me and for the life I'd been handed when I was still human. I had lost all my faith in God when my family had died. I didn't pray to him anymore. I didn't serve him. It took years, decades, of Charlotte's dedication to God for me to realize that he _did_ exist, and everything happened for a reason. My wife didn't believe we were soulless and damned. She believed there was a reason for everything. Even in fate, and the decisions that we as individuals made.

It took her death to make me realize there was a reason for everything and that _He_ was out there. But I didn't discover it right away.

September 13, 1987 was when my life and existence changed forever. That was the day I paid the price that I owed to that cunt, Maria. At least that's what she told me before she killed my wife. It was the price I paid for taking her mate away from her. Her mate, not his. Jasper was far from it. I 'owed' her my 'heart', Maria had said, and I watched as she and Carlos ripped it to pieces. I watched in horror as Charlotte was burned.

But a phoenix always rises out of the ashes, and my wife - the woman I thought would be my mate for eternity and my existence on earth and in Heaven - showed me that somewhere and somehow she still existed.

I looked at the little glass robin hanging from my rear view mirror. It was swinging back and forth because I was hitting every fucking pothole along Cerrillos Drive.

She had a thing for birds.

"What's going on, honey? Is heaven so boring and monotonous that you decided to throw us a little twist? You've always had a sick sense of humor, but this shit ain't funny. It ain't funny at all."

And it wasn't. The future had changed. I never should have been at Bella's that day. Her drain should have never had broke. Something or someone had changed the course of the future and there wasn't anything I could do about it except to try to put it back on course. But I couldn't because it changed. Again.

I shouldn't have kissed her until tomorrow night, and at that it would have only been a tender kiss goodnight. I shouldn't have experienced that mind-blowing kiss, which had turned my dick hard in an instant for another week, and that would have been in the orchard. I _should_ have been making love to her on June second, and I should have been changing her on August third.

There was nothing I could do except let everything play itself out. I knew that, but I didn't want to accept it. And how could I? I had spent the last eighteen years on the back burner, waiting for the time and only intervening when it was necessary, when it was called for. I had figured out that those times when I was needed would also remind me that it would all lead up to that point. But it might have all been in vain because the course had changed. I wasn't so certain anymore because she was no longer being handed to me so easily. But it had not been so easy. Not at all. Not for her, not for me, not for any of us. Not even for Edward or Jacob.

Maria killed Charlotte and I was left alone to live my existence without her. That was my punishment, according to the bitch, for taking Jasper away from her. It was at the end of that first hour when I had my first vision of Isabella Swan, and at the time it was the most fucked up vision I could have ever had.

September 13, 1987. I had been with Charlotte a little over forty-eight years. I could look at that day with awe instead of with the thought that I was going mad with loss, grief, and the end of all things good. Charlotte's death destroyed me; not just the man who was her husband, but the humanity that was still left in the vampire. For the first hour after her death, I was shattered beyond repair. I cried, I yelled, and I cursed God and His Son. At that time - for that first hour until its fifty-ninth minute and its fifty- ninth second - she was the only woman I had ever given my heart to.

Of course, at that time I only passed off the first vision of Bella Swan as a delusion, as something I had manifested in my subconscious to rid myself of the nightmare of what had come to be, and to rid myself of the agony I felt because my mate was dead. At that time I didn't know I would give her my heart and my love for eternity. At that time I just thought I was mentally fucked and incapable of surviving. All I had wanted to do was die.

But still, I guess that vision accomplished the impossible. According to Alice, who had been five miles away at the time, my screams had come to an abrupt end. They had a hard time finding me. Charlotte's scent was already fading away.

Back then, the vision I had was fucked up because I couldn't make out why I would have such a thing. Now I look at it as the beginning of my life. A new life. A second chance. Or maybe it was my third life, if you technically wanted to count the fact that I survived Jasper's attack and changed into something no one really wanted to be.

But Charlotte _gave_ that to me. My gift. Still, back then it was just a delusion; and a fucked up one at that.

It was really that bad.

The woman I would come to know as Renee Dwyer was lying on a birthing table in a small white room that I would later come to know as a delivery room at the hospital in Forks, Washington. She looked positively awful after being in labor for so long, and she was screaming at a young man who I would come to know as Charlie Swan.

There's nothing more beautiful than a woman in labor, nothing more beautiful than watching a gift being born. I didn't think that then, though. At the time, a part of me was too busy sympathizing with Charlie Swan.

It was like being in the room with them and standing next to the man who was obviously that unborn child's father. Charlie's face screamed out his thoughts. He was sweating profusely and running his hands through his hair. I could see his thought process play its way across his face, and I recall thinking at the time about nothing in particular other than what I was seeing. All my anger and all my grief was gone for a moment. My mind was oddly at peace with thoughts about what I was witnessing.

But I also recall thinking that the childbirth process was not the most precious moment in the world; and if anyone thought that, they were delusional. It wasn't a miracle. It was an assault, and I want to bet Renee thought so at the time, too. I had thought it was disgusting.

I watched Renee turn red with the first push. The blood flow to her face made my throat burn and venom pooled in my mouth. I watched her turn burgundy on the second push. I watched her give Charlie a look that could kill when he told her she was doing _great_. He was holding her right hand and her nails were digging into his skin, but he never complained. Charlie was gripping the bed rail with his other hand something fierce.

The vision continued, and in Renee's next push everything went to hell. I saw Bella's head emerge from her mother's womb. When Renee pushed one final time, I watched the rest of the baby girl make her way into the world. This gangly little thing, covered in blood and birth matter, had chocolate brown eyes and a full head of dark hair. She looked startled and she stared at Charlie with amazement. He returned the gesture. It was disgusting and beautiful all at the same time, and that was the first time I heard her name.

Isabella Marie Swan.

Six pounds, six ounces and nineteen inches long. Born on September 13, 1987, exactly one hour after my beloved wife, Charlotte Ann Osterhoudt, died. To the second.

It was Jasper and Alice who found me on the desert floor the moment the vision ended. They reattached the arm that Maria's newborns had ripped off, and we followed Maria's scent the next morning. For six months we hunted her, and for six months I denied the visions that would plague my mind from time to time.

Visions of a frail little infant suckling on her mother's breast. Visions of Charlie crooning _Don't Cry Joni_ to Bella as he swaddled her after changing her shitty diaper.

Six months into the hunt and the cunt was nowhere to be found. Either that or we missed her by days. We traveled all throughout Mexico, Central America, and even Texas. She knew I would come after her and she was on the run. I fed when I had to and I killed everything and anything that crossed my path. I killed families. I slaughtered the innocent. The anger and the need I felt to avenge Charlotte's death had consumed my mind. The world had ended for me, and killing Maria became an obsession. Her and blood was all that I existed for.

The delusion that was Bella was only that. A delusion. And it was something the rational man left in me had created to cage the beast I had become. I lived for nothing else. But I couldn't listen to the rational man. The need to kill Maria outweighed everything else. She _had_ to die.

Somebody once told me that you should love your enemies just in case your friends turned out to be bastards. It was a pity that it was Jasper who told me that, and it was heartbreaking because he had become the bastard.

Yet, I had become my own enemy. I used to think there was only so much you can ask from your friends before they turn their backs on you. But I knew now that I had been asking for too much from them. I hadn't wanted to help myself, and that being the case, six months into the hunt for Maria, I found myself alone.

I guess the shoe was on the other foot because the man I used to be was gone. All that remained was the monster who wanted Maria's head. I became the hopeless one, plagued every now and then by a little human girl who was teaching herself how to crawl. But even she wasn't safe from certain destruction.

Most of the time her parents argued. Renee felt trapped in Forks. She felt like she was gong no where and no where fast. Bella Swan was a danger magnet, even then, and Charlie forgot to put the gate up by the stairs. Bella managed to crawl up five steps, and when she tumbled down she hit her head. The little, wide-eyed baby girl with thick, dark brown hair, which was gathered and tied into a tiny top knot on top of her head, let out a wail. She had a small goose egg on her forehead, and the argument afterward over Charlie's carelessness was just the opening that Renee was looking for.

When I would take the time to stop hunting for Maria, which was basically never, that was when I would see her. So, I made it a point _not_ to stop. I tried desperately to shake it off, to not think about Bella and everything I was seeing. I tried to pass it off as a sleepless being's dreams, but I also knew these visions weren't dreams because a vampire couldn't dream.

But I still had them.

And it wasn't always just key points of her little life. Sometimes she would be sleeping in her crib. Sometimes she would be playing with her teether. Most of the time she would just be playing with her little bear. Sometimes she was fighting bad gas or constipated, and sometimes I think she just missed her Daddy.

She lived in Riverside, California then. Her grandmother and grandfather was still alive.

It was two months after Jasper and Alice left the hunt, when I was wandering through the Sierra Madre Occidental following a trail, that I came upon a small farm and its four inhabitants. A man and a woman and their two children, a boy and a girl. By then, nothing mattered anymore. I had lost my wife, my best friend, and I had lost the will to live or even exist. It had been days since I last fed because I had stayed out of the cities and towns, so I was just too fucked in the head to care. When I saw them, I did what I only knew how to do at that point. I killed them without even bothering to look at their faces. I killed the little girl last.

When I finished with her, I looked into the eyes of Isabella. They were nearly the same color; a milk chocolate brown framed with thick lashes; big and round, and she looked at the world with horror. She was lifeless, but those eyes stared back at me.

I burned down the house with all four inside. I was in every sense a monster.

When I lit the fire, I walked out the back door. It was at that moment that another vision slammed into me. Bella fell into the pool at a neighbor's house during a back yard barbecue. She was only in the water for about five seconds before Renee jumped in and had her, but it was long enough for her to fill her lungs with water when she had taken a breath. I had continued to walk forward during this vision, and the next thing I knew I fell twenty-six feet.

I hadn't known it at the time, but I was in an old cistern, twenty-six feet down and on an outcropping of limestone. I curled up on that rock and I gave in. I decided at that point it was useless to go on. I closed my eyes and cried for my wife, my mate, and all that was lost.

That was when I fell into another vision. The only difference was that this time it did not end.

Bella Swan's entire life passed before my mind's inner eye. Every second of it. My mind caught it all. I remember everything, every fine detail there was to remember - from her mother fussing over her because she fell in the pool all the way up to the day I changed her. Plus, there was an added bonus, and even the monster in me couldn't deny that it was fucked up.

The shocking part was when I first saw me and everything I would need to do to bring her up to the point where our paths would finally cross. I had found my purpose to exist, but I still didn't know it. I was still denying that it wasn't a fabrication I created because I went crazy. I didn't want to accept what I was being given.

There wasn't a second of her childhood or adolescence I didn't see. I saw that boy, Brett, put gravel down the back of her pants when she was in preschool. She was four and ate chicken every day. She loved chicken. When Bella was five and on her third day of kindergarten, she was sitting next to an annoying boy named Eli who would pull her pigtails. It was quiet time, and Bella yelled out for the teacher because Eli was being a pest. She thought the teacher was ignoring her until Mrs. Hollenbeck pointed to the red light on the bulletin board. Bella piped up and told her, _"Hello!? Your lights are on but there's nobody home in there!"_

I watched her catch her first fish when she was six with Charlie. She was elated, and he was so happy because she loved to fish with him. I watched her win her school spelling bee when she was eight. She spelled _subterranean_.

I even got to see the stuff I'd have preferred not to experience with Bella. Unfortunately, there was no way for me to turn the thing off, fast forward, or just close my eyes. They were already closed. So, by the time Bella Swan was able to use the potty by herself and up into the last vision I had of her before I changed her on August third, she had gone to the bathroom sixty-two thousand, eight hundred and six times. She even spread shit on the wall when she was two. I caught myself laughing out loud at her facial expressions when she discovered she started her period on January 24, 2000.

When and if she reads that journal, I'm a dead man.

But watching her develop from an infant to a toddler, from preadolescence to adolescence, and from adolescence to young adulthood was the most beautiful and amazing thing I've ever witnessed. I don't think most people realize how beautiful it really is. They can't appreciate it as much because time just seems to have that effect. When you wrap it up into a two year period, though, it is an amazing process.

But it was just a dream. At least that's what I told myself at the time.

Bella really loved her mom and all the crazy things the woman was capable of doing. Her mother's behavior while she grew up might have been acceptable to Bella, and I do know that Renee loved her more than anything in her own unique way, but sometimes the woman should have taken a step back and looked at her daughter's life. When she was sixteen, Renee was too caught up in Phil's life to even acknowledge that her daughter had come in second place in the Arizona Schools Regional Award for Excellence. She had written an essay on A Tale of Two Cities. It was a perfect paper and she should have taken first place.

I saw her make the decision to move to Forks so Renee could spend more time with Phil.

I saw her first day in Forks. That was quite the shock.

I watched their relationship bloom. She had fallen in love with him immediately. Hell, I would have too. I watched James nearly end her life, and I watched Edward, who had been selfish enough to bring her into his life, make another selfish decision to keep her on the edge of it.

I watched that fucking brother of mine ruin it for the both of them.

Nothing disturbed me more than her face in the forest that day. I watched her heart literally shatter. I hated Edward for doing that to her, but only because he lied to her and treated her like a worthless piece of shit. But I had no right to judge him. I saw me picking her up where she had fallen and running her back to the forest's edge so Charlie could find her.

I watched Jacob put her back together. I respected Jacob. I was glad he was there for her because watching her every day for the four months she tried so hard just to live and appease her parents was gut wrenching. I watched him pine for her, but I could tell her heart was still with Edward. Until that day she jumped. And those visions of Jake making love to her - making love to the girl that I had watched grow - made me want to throw up and gut the bastard.

Even then, when I still wasn't a believer, I was still emotionally invested in this girl's life. I wanted to protect her from the harsh reality that she would face. At the time, I thought Jacob had put her back together, and I thought his love for her wasn't something to be taken lightly. There was a chance, but I think I knew what would happen even before I saw it.

_Linae_.

I was shown five instances where I would be needed so I could bring Bella Swan full circle and into my life. But back then I still didn't believe or accept that she really even existed. I didn't think she was the woman I would feel bound to and love forever. _That_ woman had died.

I saw myself completing these tasks, but I had no idea what would possess me to even complete them. I didn't care for that girl then. I didn't love her. She was just a girl.

But I watched myself, and I could see that I was indeed in love with her. Completely. And I think I knew then there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for Bella. I just still had that issue of not accepting that this was all a delusion that I had created. I still passed it off as a dream.

The very last vision of Bella Swan I was graced to have was one where she smiled at me. It was a smile that was only reserved for me. It was a vision to show me what I would be given and just how fathomless our love for one another would be. I saw myself watching her and talking to her while she prepared to dive off a familiar cliff. The sun burned low in the sky and she had all my attention. She was naked and she was reflecting every variant of the color spectrum. She shined like a diamond.

That vision gave me the purpose and the will to seek her out. It gave me hope; hope that it wasn't just a dream concocted by a monster in an effort to deal with the loss of his sanity and a way to deal with his grief.

In that vision I told her it wasn't proper for a five hundred year old birthday girl to go and hurl herself off a cliff while naked. She told me to shut up and enjoy the show. The gusting wind blew her mahogany hair around her face and she made the run at a human speed. She did not hesitate. She threw herself into the air and screamed my name all the way down until she hit the water. I removed my own clothes and followed after her. I would follow her anywhere.

Two years, three days, fourteen hours, thirty-eight minutes, and six seconds later, I got up and made my way out of that hole. Oddly enough I was thirsty. Physically I was extremely emaciated and there was no doubt in my mind that I was the true vision of a monster.

It took me three days to reach the top of the cistern. I was nothing more than a human man at that point, most definitely weaker than most. I had no strength, no energy to simply make the jump, so I had to pull myself out. I had to claw through the dirt walls just to get a good enough grip to pull my body up a foot. I fell to the bottom quite a bit.

When I reached the top, I couldn't run. I followed a stream to the outskirts of a little, Mexican town called Guerrero, where I found an abandoned building to hide out for the day. The sun was coming up and I couldn't be seen, not only because of the sun reflecting off my body but because I had caught my reflection in an old mirror. A monster was indeed what I had become.

Later on that day, two cars came up the hill towards the building. I could hear four heartbeats. One vehicle pulled in while the other one stayed outside the large sliding door. Two men came in from the vehicle outside and two men emerged from the Mercedes sedan that had parked inside the door.

It was a drug deal gone bad. Bad for the four men, but good for me. My body healed itself with some much needed blood. I could finally talk, not that there was anyone to talk to. I burned the twenty kilos of coke and marijuana along with their bodies, the Mercedes, and the building. Before I lit the place on fire, I took the bag of cash and walked out of the building. I froze in shock at the sight that was before me.

It was the same one, the color still a little brighter but it was fading. Even in 1990 it looked like an antique. It had big round fenders and a bulbous cab, but it was missing a couple of important dents.

I took the truck and the cash and made my way to Chihuahua, Mexico. It didn't take me long to find what I needed to cross the border, and by June I had made my way across. The strength had returned to my body and my appearance had improved dramatically, but my thirst was still uncontrollable. I was no better than a newborn and I fed on a daily basis.

I had to validate for myself even then that she existed. I wasn't a believer. I wanted to continue the hunt for Maria because I had to kill her, but I had to look for Bella. I had to see if she existed because for two years she was all that I thought about. My mind was still focused on her life as it played out before my eyes.

I told myself that I would seek her out just to prove that it was all a delusion, that it was all just a really long, bad dream. I told myself that this girl, if she really existed, wouldn't need me. And if she did…well, it was too bad because I wouldn't be around to help her when she would need it the most.

I took I-10 through Arizona and headed east to Riverside. It was June 3, 1990. It would be the first time I ever saw Isabella Swan. It was two-thirty in the morning.

The house was the same; a cream stucco ranch with burgundy shutters framing the windows. I was afraid, afraid of what I would find inside, but something unexplainable was pulling me into that house. I slid her tiny bedroom window open and crawled inside.

There on a little toddler bed, in her small little room with pink walls and two Little Mermaid posters, was my vision.

It was hot and she had kicked the covers off, even the Little Mermaid sheet. She was wearing her Little Mermaid nightgown and it was all twisted and gathered up along her tummy. She was fumbling with the leg of her diaper with her little fingers. Bella would be three in September and she just loved The Little Mermaid.

I liked The Little Mermaid too.

She was restless and making little noises, crying almost. Nesty, a black teddy bear with brown feet that Charlie had given her, had fallen on the floor. She had been facing the wall, and when she turned over my entire life changed.

That was when the man in me came undone and pushed the demon; the enemy I had become; into its cage and threw away the key.

Large, chocolate brown eyes full of innocence stared back at me. She appraised me before she smiled. Even then, the girl trusted vampires way too much.

"Annngel."

I fell apart.

I had seen it, but until that point I hadn't felt it. I hadn't felt anything. The line that had held my resolve to hunt down Maria and destroy her was cut away. The man; the vampire; who had turned into a vicious creature who no longer cared what life he took was just _gone_. The life I had lived up until that point and with all its grief and loss couldn't hold a candle to that infinite moment when I first laid my real eyes on Bella Swan.

I felt it all. Immeasurable bliss, happiness, awe, and amazement at the miracle before me. Everything that had tied me to a course of destruction, whether it was for Maria or myself, no longer mattered. Nothing but this girl mattered. Charlotte was gone and there was nothing I could do that could ever change that. Our time together had ended. I would never forget her and I would always hold the memories of her inside my heart, but my heart belonged to another. It was hers even then. She just didn't know it.

My heart was wide open for that little girl, and it felt like a titanium string tied me to her own. She was the center of my universe and I knew then that I would orbit around her life and wait for the next nineteen years so our lives could come together when it was time, when we were both ready.

We would carve out our own little world in the universe for eternity.

I had to wonder if that was what it was like for Jacob when he found Linae. And if it was, I could feel no ill will towards the man.

"Nestyyyy!"

Bella whined out to me. Renee let out a little moan from the bedroom across the hall.

I already knew what I would say.

"Shh. He's right here. I'll get him."

I picked up the bear that had been thrown up on, peed on, shit on, and washed more than a dozen times. It was just loaded down with her beautiful scent and I put him in her tiny hands. Her and her mother's scent, along with the beating of their hearts, which were pumping rich blood throughout their bodies, stoked the fire within my throat. It made my mouth pool with venom. It was easy to tell myself that I couldn't hurt her. I couldn't hurt _them_.But I didn't dare touch her.

She smiled at me.

"Go back to sleep, Bunny. You only have six thousand, nine hundred and sixty-eight chances to dream the sweetest dreams."

"Bunnnneeee." She was all baby teeth and tongue and she pulled at Nesty's ears.

"Yeah, yeah. Go back to sleep. You'll wake your momma."

She smiled at me before she hugged Nesty to her chest and rolled over to whisper unintelligible words to him. I picked the sheet up at her feet and pulled it up, letting it float down to cover her somewhat.

I flew out the window. That was the first time I let Bella Swan go. It had been hard, harder than I thought, because the weight of it all really hit me when I finally got to the truck.

The first thing I did after that night was drive up to Forks. I sold the truck to a mechanic outside of La Push.

Bella's life had to carry out its course. I did what I needed to do in order to secure her in the future. I could not fuck with fate. I could not intervene and change the path of her life no matter how hard and enticing that was during certain points in her life. I couldn't risk the future. I could not fuck with fate. I could have very well lost what I had been given. A new future with a new wife. A new _mate_.

Not that it wouldn't be hard for either of us. I didn't want to see her suffer through the consequences of her birthday party. And even through her childhood I didn't want to see her shed unnecessary tears, although they would only be unnecessary to me. The reality of the matter is each one taught her something new about life and the way the world worked. Happiness and heartache makes us the people we were. She needed to experience all of it.

But there had been one part of her life where I couldn't wait for my presence to be known, and strangely enough it wouldn't be known by Bella. I couldn't wait for the red-headed bitch to _see_ me.

I had something to live for. I had hope. I had been reborn, my faith in God and Heaven renewed. So I started anew and carved my own place out in the world until she was ready to join me.

Time passed. It was what I needed to heal my broken heart. A part of it was still broken, still dead. There wasn't anything I could do about that. I needed to make amends for some of the atrocities I had committed. I fixed myself and I forgave myself; because the Bella I knew in the future wouldn't accept a man who was less than good, less than happy with himself. She'd already been there and she'd already done that.

And I did it for myself too. I knew Charlotte was up there, and I knew my family was up there. I wanted to make them proud. I owed them all that much. I went to Santa Fe, and that was where I would remain until I was needed once again.

Sometimes she didn't need me and sometimes I just couldn't bear to be away from her. Even Charlotte would have known that, otherwise I wouldn't have seen myself sometimes watching her.

Bella was five. It was March 14, 1993. She lived in Phoenix then. She fell off the rocket slide at the park near her house. Renee was on a park bench, talking to a neighbor, and Bella fell from the top step when she lost her footing. Renee had no idea that she had fallen.

It was quick and instantaneous because it needed to be. The sun was out and she would have seen me. She would have remembered. Bella was disoriented and had no idea what had happened. I ran back and dropped into the drain in the street I had emerged from. That was the first time I touched her. I didn't know if she still remembered that. She told her mom she fell but that she fell on her own two feet. That shit just wasn't possible with her.

Once a year I would visit and watch her. Time didn't move fast enough.

When Bella was twelve, Nesty lived at the bottom of a box in her closet. Her mother went through her room and took different odds and ends to sell at a garage sale. I made a special trip and paid a kid from down the street forty bucks to go and buy him for me.

That little shit took me for forty bucks for a fucking teddy bear I had paid a quarter for. I kept him in the chest I had made for Bella that held all her journals. I wrote out every important detail of her life.

The reason for the chest at the time was to remind Bella of her life after I changed her. I would tell her my story the day before I changed her and she would believe me. But it would be an admittance that would nearly drive her to the brink of insanity. She wouldn't need proof. The contents of that chest would merely be a walk down memory lane because so many of hers would have faded.

But the future had changed, and the purpose for that chest might have changed as well.

The first day that tested my resolve to let her life play out as I knew it was the day Tyler Crowley's van nearly killed her. The truth of the matter was I had to have faith that the incident would play out as it had in the vision. And it did. I sat in the tree that Edward would sit in to watch her himself on the days he couldn't go to school, and I watched her for the rest of the day.

That was also the day my jealousy made itself known. I knew then it was going to be harder than I thought to watch her relationship grow with Edward Cullen and Jacob Black.

Every memory had a day, and every day I would think about what she was experiencing and who she was experiencing it with.

The second day that tested my resolve was the incident in Port Angeles. It tested the patience and tolerance I had built up until that point, and it just about broke before Edward came flying around the corner a little murderous himself. I had been waiting on the roof of the building across the street from where she was standing after being herded by four men who wanted to take the very key to my existence away. Her face was defiant and her eyes burned with ferocity, but her voice was just as weak as it had been in the vision when she told them to leave her alone. Inside she was terrified, but she wasn't going down without a fight.

Alonzo Calderas-Wallace - or Lonnie as he liked to be called - was transferred to Oklahoma City to stand trial for the rape and murder of an eighteen year old girl. All I knew was his name was Lonnie and that he'd be in Port Angeles that night.

The future had to play itself out. There was no other choice for me. But once things crossed over the path, they became free game. So when I waited for Lonnie and his friends to come out of the bar later that night - because they no longer _were_ a part of Bella's future - I didn't expect to see Carlisle and Edward Cullen pull up. Bella was at home, showering and getting ready for bed. Edward soon left to run back to Bella's and I watched as Carlisle waited in the shadows for Lonnie and his friends to come walking out. Having the gift of no scent made things simpler for me. It made me invisible. He used chloroform to subdue Lonnie, and then he shoved him in his car to take him to God knows where. I didn't follow him. There were three other individuals who needed to be taken care of, and in the forests outside of Port Angeles three bodies lay in unmarked graves.

Lonnie became Alonzo Calderas-Wallace the next day in the paper, with a picture and all. I followed his case. He met his end last year. Oklahoma State Prison has many holes and it sucked for him to have kitchen duty one early Thursday morning.

As hard as it was to watch her and know she was falling in love with him and putting herself at risk, I knew Edward loved her and wouldn't kill her. It wasn't any more difficult than watching her finally give in to Jake. Nothing was more difficult than that.

I was jealous. I was mad as hell, and I never kept track of the times I could have almost ruined everything. On so many occasions I was compelled to swoop in and take her away. On so many occasions I would lay at home in agony, wishing it was me holding her in her bed, or me kissing her, or me being the first man she gave herself to.

I hated Jacob for that. He could have been a little gentler with her.

For a long time I thought that watching her go through her relationship with Edward and seeing it end was a test; a test to test my faith and to teach me a thing or two about love and its worth for others.

The third time I intervened in her life was the day Edward left her. I carried her back to the woods outside her house. She was lifeless, numb, and so very cold. I held her as tightly as I could without hurting her. For Bella, it was quick and almost instantaneous. For me, it was a lifetime and I didn't want to let her go. I had thought about taking her right there. Nobody would have known, but what would have been the price for changing fate? Besides that, Edward had already taken her choice away. I wasn't about to do the same.

I stayed in Forks for the next eight months. I stayed in Jasper and Alice's room. I watched her almost every day. I watched her try so hard. I watched her waste away to nothing, knowing there wasn't a damn thing I could about it. I knew exactly how Charlie felt.

I went into her house the first day she went back to school. I knew Edward had stashed the things he and the family had given her underneath her floorboards. I had figured out back when I was having visions he could no longer hear my thoughts. Another gift from Charlotte. I took them for her because they were her things and he had no right to hide them from her.

I watched in silence from a tree a quarter of a mile to the east of Edward's meadow as Laurent stumbled upon a despondent Bella. It took everything I had not to make my presence known and rip him to pieces. Instead I watched Sam, Jacob, Paul, Embry, and Jared take care of him. I admired their purpose. Everything was the way it was supposed to be.

The day I had been waiting for finally arrived and it took all of me not to go in and remove her permanently from our intended future. This was the day she would come the closest to dying. This was the day that she'd give what was left of her heart to Jacob Black. This was the day the red-headed bitch had a surprise waiting for her. And this was the day that I would be seen by the entire pack. It was _supposed_ to happen. Why? I didn't know.

As horrifying as it was to watch her jump, I still think about that moment a lot. All the sorrow disappeared from her face and she looked content. She looked _happy_. And I knew the reason why. She screamed the entire way down and I took my spot near a large boulder underneath the angry, dark sea. Victoria would swim by me on the opposite side and never suspect that I was waiting.

When Bella hit the water, she nearly hit the bottom twenty-three feet below the surface. She was caught in a riptide and she tried her best to swim out of it, but it was just too strong. The current was pulling her in both directions and she couldn't tell which way was up. She was sinking further and further into the depths as she was being pulled out to sea.

I heard Victoria before I saw her, swimming effortlessly as she made her way towards Bella. She was like a shark swimming towards a distressed fish. She was looking forward to the kill. She would have had her, too, if it hadn't been for Jacob and Sam. I had to have faith that it would work out like it was supposed to.

Jacob was the first in the water, followed by Sam. They hadn't shifted yet because they had no idea that Victoria was there. Jacob slammed into Bella when the riptide caught him and Sam pulled them to the surface. Sam saw Victoria before he surfaced and he shifted immediately.

Jacob removed Bella from the water before he dove back in. By then, I had already swum up to meet Victoria head on when she decided to tuck tail and run. It was oddly calm under the water when I caught her, nothing like the torrential sea above. Her red hair swirled up and away as she looked at me with horror. I smiled at her, my face not four inches away from hers, and she froze.

I suppose for an instant she might have thought I was a friend, but when I gave her the telltale sign for 'you're dead' and turned her around to meet those who would kill her, that's when she decided to fight back. I gave her one hard blow to the back and a hard push towards Sam. He caught her easily.

Jacob was phased; and for one moment our eyes met. I was well aware that they both had seen everything, and I'm not sure why he didn't give chase. I was right there, not ten feet away from him, but he did nothing but look at me in the water. If I hadn't seen myself do it already, I would have done it anyway. I put my index finger to my lips and gave him the sign for 'be quiet'.

_Keep the secret, Jacob. You can never tell her. _

The only reason I'm sure he didn't tell her was because he didn't want to distress Bella. The wolves had no idea who I was, and my part in Victoria's death was never discussed; at least it wasn't done within sight or sound of Bella. Sam had Victoria at the surface then, fighting hard to keep a hold of her. When he lost his arm - or his front leg - Jacob bit into her side and dragged her to the beach.

That was the last night I spent in Forks. I would not stay and watch their relationship progress. I had things to take care of, and I needed to be distracted anyway. I'd see her soon enough. Six months was all I had to wait, and when it was time she would be coming home.

Most of the time I stayed holed up in my house. I was aware of each day as it passed, aware of what she was doing with him. The visions I'd had eighteen years ago were fresh in my head. It wasn't something I could distract myself from. I was angry. A lot. I was mad at her because I wished she would have waited. For me.

On Sunday, September 24, 2006, Bella Swan drove into Santa Fe. She stayed at a little shithole on Cerrillos Road, just up the street from the club where she would eventually work.

I was so fucking happy that for a moment I had forgotten how much she was hurting. But still, I was excited when I shredded the slave cylinder and transmission beneath her truck that night. I guess I realized how much she was hurting only when I saw her the next morning when she started to cry because her truck wouldn't start. But she wasn't just crying because her truck wouldn't start. I had been attuned to her for nineteen years, but at that time I had been only thinking about myself.

When she finds out I killed the truck she'll burn me.

She had run away from it all. She had run away to escape the pain. Maybe it wasn't the best thing to have done because she left behind people who still cared for and loved her a great deal. But at least that time she could say she had done something about it instead of nothing at all.

Jacob didn't break her heart. It was already broken. She just gave him the rest of it and he filled it with his own kind of love. Losing Jacob turned her heart into cold steel, and I was the hot furnace determined to melt it; even if I only ran a cool thirty-eight degrees.

It would have been easy to set Bella up with the perfect job and the perfect apartment, but my father once told me that great things happen to people who work hard and never give up, and he was right. It only took a few weeks for Bella to finally stop crying and to start living her life. Her life was pretty boring, though. Work, clean, school, work, clean some more, school. But she worked hard and she built a life for herself after everything she had experienced. She developed into a fine, young woman.

A fine, young woman who could mow any fucker down with just one stare.

She also developed a case of OCD. When the woman had nothing to do, she would clean. Every fucking day she would clean her kitchen and her bathroom from top to bottom. She still did that. I had seen it in the vision, but the shit was downright funny and sad at the same time when I actually saw it firsthand.

I knew it was because she needed to keep moving. Keep her mind off the past and even off the future. She had gone through so much.

At night, when she would sleep, I would work on the little Ford Festiva she had bought to get around. I changed the battery, put new belts on, changed her alternator and starter, tuned it up, and I even fixed the heater.

She had told Debbie that the damn thing just decided to work. And she was the typical woman when it came to car repair. If it wasn't broke it didn't need fixed, but at least she kept up on the oil changes.

I watched her whenever I could, and I waited. It was important for Bella to have some time to herself, to take care of herself and do what she wanted to do for a change. She was always a little independent thing, and she would need some peace and quiet before her fate finally caught up to her. She would need time to heal, time to grow.

Life is always full of up and downs. And when her mom got sick, Bella was far from quiet. It tore me apart listening to her cry when she finally got home. It tore me apart because I knew Renee almost as well as Bella. Watching a loved one die of natural causes is just as traumatic as watching someone be sucked away or watching someone burn to death. The only difference is how quickly it happens. Bella watched her mother waste away to nothing, and then she had a spark of hope for a moment when she thought she was getting better.

You're never prepared for that moment, no matter how many times you've told yourself that you would be. I wasn't ready for it either.

I stopped at an unconventional florist shop before they closed for the night. Finalizing those designs for the development had only taken me three hours.

I dropped the arrangement on her doorstep and went to visit a friend named Marcy to pass some time. Visiting Marcy always made me appreciate life and God a little bit more.

While I visited with her, I thought about how I could expose Bella to the side of my world that she feared the most. I had no idea how to do it. In the future I had used to know, it wasn't discussed in great length; which actually seemed a little odd at the time before the future had changed because I never did it. I never exposed her to hunting. But the conversation that had taken place in her kitchen made me realize that I needed to show her to that side of things.

She did have a choice, and it was one she would have to make. I was flying blind, but I still had the advantage.

Friday night would be the night I would tell Bella how I had lied to her about Jasper and Alice. Whether or not her reaction would be the same was the question, and I fucking dreaded it. It was just so fucking weird that I had lied to her in that vision before it'd even happened, but when it did happen it just felt like the right thing to do. The guilt I felt for lying to her, though, ate at me. I had lied to Bella, and I was going to hurt her by telling her the truth because I couldn't stand lying to her. The biggest lie was yet to come, and I had no idea what to do.

Everything was so different though. For the first time, I was really _feeling_ all of it as if it was all so new. And I guess it was. Her smile took my breath away. Her tears made my chest hurt. Her hostility towards me made me want to cry like a little fucking baby. Her passion and the heat of her body soaked through my skin on that kitchen floor. It made me tingle everywhere and it warmed my heart. It was pure heaven. All of it.

She forgave me in that vision. She understood why I lied to her, but not before she had some choice words for me. Words that ripped me apart even then. There was no way I could prepare for it. The future I _used_ to know, the future I had _seen_,was no longer a sure thing.

At two in the morning, I drove through the alley behind Generations before heading over to the dead end a block east of Bella's house. I just wanted to make sure she had parked in the back. After that I drove over to her neighborhood. I parked the truck a block west and made my way through the little grove of trees that had no business in Santa Fe's basin. It was thick with dry brush and very few of those trees were mature enough to go swinging from. During the day I stayed on the ground and low behind the brush. I didn't watch her all the time; I still had to work and I still had to hunt. But the term 'stalker' certainly did fit.

Usually I would hide in the shadows so I could watch her read on the back porch and just think about our future.

I climbed up an ash and sat between two thick branches that gave me a better view of her front door. Bella would be on her way home and I wanted to know if her early Friday morning routine would be the usual. Fridays were reserved for washing the truck in the dark, cleaning out the fireplace on the patio, and then lighting a fire and settling down to read a little bit before going to bed. She would have been finishing _Certain Prey_ by John Sanford tonight. I was just as enthralled with the series as she was.

That's what she _should_ have been doing, but the future had changed.

She pulled in right at 3:02AM. She didn't pull into the garage; she never did when she was going to wash it. I watched her get out and walk quickly up the stone path to her front door.

She had curled her hair. She was wearing a black skirt that showed off her firm thighs, which were encased in black pantyhose. She had on a white, short-sleeved top that buttoned up and fit her snugly. She had the top three buttons popped, and I could see the swells of her beautiful breasts. She had her shoes on. Those wedges made her legs look longer and thinner.

Those visions never really did the real thing justice. She was so much better to see in person. I had seen her naked thousands of times in that vision; while she grew up, while she developed, and there was never a time when I didn't want whoever was responsible for that gift to turn the fucker off. It was amazing and upsetting all at the same time because it really _was_ a violation of her privacy. Most of the time, I just wished there could have been some way to look away, to not think about it, but that was never possible. I guess the bad always comes with the good.

I even saw her touch herself. Seeing something like that, of course, inspired me to touch _myself_ on those nights when it occurred. But I was just a man. It was like my very own personal porn, available for whenever I wanted it. My memory was a blessing _and_ a curse.

I had watched her body develop, and now she was all woman. 5'4'', fit, and more beautiful than ever. Her body excited me like nothing or no one had before. My dick twitched just watching her walk.

She was hurrying a little. Bella had this habit of not going pee before she left work, so by the time she'd get home she'd be squeezing her legs together and running towards the bathroom.

I watched her step into the little arched alcove outside the front door and stop. She knelt down and took the card that was attached to the paper covering the flowers and the modest crystal vase I had bought to put them in.

_Just a little something to remind you of me and to let you know that I am a romantic at__heart. _

_See you tomorrow. _

_P._

I could see from her profile that she was smiling and it warmed my heart. She grabbed a hold of the top of the paper where it was gathered and lifted it off carefully.

She was silent for a moment as she stared at the bouquet. And then she burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

I had bought her a couple dozen long-stemmed, red roses that were wilted and dead, as were the stems of baby's breath and sprigs of fern greenery that weren't so green anymore. I knew she'd appreciate that more than the real thing.

She was laughing boisterously and loudly, and at some point she forgot she had to pee.

Bella stood up, laughing and squeezing her legs together. "Oh. Oh! Oh, shit!"

She fumbled with getting her key in the lock while trying to squat and squeeze her legs together. Her other hand flew down to the apex between her legs, trying to keep it in there. She had the door open and she was on the run towards the bathroom.

I had to lean so I could peer into her window that gave me a view of her living room and the front portion of the hallway down to the guest bathroom and the bedrooms.

Halfway down the hallway there was a portion of her hardwood floor that was becoming warped with age. Her shoe caught a raised portion of the piece and she went tumbling down in a fit of laughter and surprise.

She pissed her britches.

I fell out of the tree.

By the time she cleaned herself up, retrieved the bouquet off the porch, washed her truck, _and_ cleaned out her fireplace, the sky was starting to lighten. She read her book and finished it within thirty-four minutes. With a yawn, she grabbed the vase of flowers off the little wicker table and headed to bed.

I waited until her breathing evened out and she was asleep before I made my way to the truck.

That was when I heard it.

It stopped me in my tracks. I stood there for another moment, swallowing back thickly the venom that had immediately pooled in my mouth. It wasn't the venom pool of hunger or desire, but the venom pool of deep emotion; something I hadn't felt since the first time I had laid eyes on a two year old Bella Swan.

"_Angel."_


	9. Chapter 8 Funnel Cake & Dreamsicles

Chapter 8. Funnel Cake and Dreamsicles

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***B*E*L*L*A***

_5:35 P.M...The next day._

Time moves too slowly when you're looking forward to something. I was ready. At least I thought I was. I had been ready for the last hour and half. To pass the time, I decided to watch TV and start to catch up on The Deadliest Catch episodes I had missed. Nearly half of the King Crab season had already aired and I had missed it all, thanks to a vampire named Peter.

Peter Whitlock.

Peter Fischer.

Peter.

His name rolled off the tongue.

I was one of the series' best unknown fans. It was the first thing I ever watched on my new TV two weeks after officially settling in Santa Fe in my first apartment. I didn't have any furniture except for an old blue couch I found in a want ad, a bed, to sleep in, and a 25 inch TV. I watched a marathon on Discovery and watched the reruns when I could. Back then, it was a way to pass the time when I wasn't working and it helped me keep my mind off Jake, strangely enough. Now, I always made sure to record them, that way I could watch them when I wanted to.

That man - that vampire - had invaded my personal bubble, no matter how boring it had been. I didn't think I could have been happier though that he had.

I had completely missed the fact that Phil's health issues had taken him out of another crab season, and the series had introduced a new boat - a smaller boat's adventure at work on the sea.

But I'd miss it all again if it meant I got to kiss Peter every day.

I started fast-forwarding through commercials and anything that had to do with Keith or The Wizard, and watched two out of the four episodes I had missed.

It helped me to relax even though I wasn't really nervous, but as the time ticked away to six o'clock, I started to get a little jumpy. I'm not sure why, but I was experiencing an impending sense of dread. I knew it was just nerves. There was no reason to dread this date with Peter. I had already kissed him, so that was out of the way.

I had a pep talk with myself earlier and I was going to make it a point to play it light and not let my desire for him rule over the rest of me. He was breathtaking, and he seemed to have a knack for dazzling me to the point where my legs just automatically wanted to open for him and let him in.

Dazzling seemed like such an understatement.

The night before I had woken up with plenty of time to get to work. But before I had gone back to bed, I had made sure to have everything ready so I wouldn't be late. I had even taken a hot shower, when in reality I had needed a cold one. But hot showers relax me and it was just what I had needed after the two hours I'd spent with Peter. I had only managed to get a three hour nap in, but after everything that had happened I was surprised I had even managed to fall asleep at all.

Most of our time together had been spent on some of the most difficult points in our lives, especially for Peter. I couldn't imagine the loss and grief that that boy had felt when he lost his mother, father, and his two older brothers. I couldn't imagine the despair and horror he had felt when he watched his sister burn to death.

That night, we would ride the roller coaster, but we sure as hell had taken a ride and sat inside the emotional car yesterday. He had laid another stunner of a kiss on me after my fit of laughter. That kiss was more tender, but it was breathtaking all the same.

After that, Peter told me that if I didn't get off his lap and quit trying to take advantage of him, he would call the cops and have me charged with alluring and inciting sexual activity with a hard working and honest handyman. I told him I didn't believe he would do such a thing, figuring it was his hand this time that was up my shirt and almost copped a feel. He grinned and laughed even more wickedly than before.

He said that since we were telling the truth, if I didn't remove myself from his lap his dick was going to burst through his jeans and seek out new life, new civilizations. It would boldly go where no vampire had ever gone before. I ended up laughing again but made the move to get up.

I knew he was only joking, but for an instant I thought I saw a hint of regret on his face. It's not like he knew no vampire had ever gone there before, but I thought later that maybe he had worried he might have offended me somehow. Peter helped me stand first, and then we cleaned up the mess. The conversation picked back up on a much lighter note. We talked about books and poetry as he helped me clean up the rest of the mess.

When it was time to say goodbye, I had walked him out to his truck. For a moment I had worried because I thought I saw a look of regret on his face. It made me think that maybe I had been too forward and maybe this was moving too fast. Maybe it was, I didn't find myself worrying about it. But maybe it was moving too fast for him.

I just felt so comfortable with Peter. It was hard to believe that I had just met him. And though I was only worried for a moment that perhaps he thought we were moving too fast, he soon extinguished that worry with an insult about sloppy kissing and gave me the best compliment a woman could receive.

"_A man had given all other bliss, and all his worldly worth for this, to waste his whole heart in one kiss, upon her perfect lips."_

Sure, they weren't his words, but they were perfect just the same because I felt the same way. It turns out that he had thought that perhaps this was moving too fast for _me_.

But it couldn't be helped. The reactions he caused in me were not something I could keep on the downswing. As embarrassing as it was that he could smell what he could so easily do to me, I found myself not really giving a shit about moving too fast. You only live once, and I'd already been at death's door twice. More than that, actually.

I wanted him and I wanted _all_ of him. I wanted whatever he could give me, even if it wasn't possible for our physical relationship to go full circle or touch all the bases. I would appreciate every little touch he was able to give me. It had been a long time since I'd felt that level of want, comfort, or even pleasure.

It felt good. Very, very good.

The last man I had kissed had been a guy named Derek, one of Diane's set ups. He had thought so highly of himself, and if it hadn't been for the fact that he was drop dead gorgeous, I would have never let him kiss me the way he did. He lacked intelligence, which wasn't really a problem because not everybody can be an intellectual, but he also lacked even the smallest amount of common sense. Common sense would have told him it wasn't polite to stare at my boobs all night, and it would have also told him it wasn't a good idea to stiff a waitress when he was on a date with one.

At the end of our date I let him kiss me, knowing that was as far as he'd ever get, and I didn't want to completely _not_ acknowledge the effort he had given in showing me a great time or the expensive prime rib dinner he had taken me to. Plus, I hadn't kissed another man since Jake, and I thought maybe it would spark something. But he deposited a huge goober of spit in my mouth when he pried my lips open, and that was enough to turn me off completely.

I also realized that I wasn't just physically attracted to Peter. Peter was very intelligent. He was funny, he was sarcastic, and when the time called for it, he could be very serious. He very blunt and opinionated. And he was not afraid to tell me what he thought, even if we didn't agree. I never felt pressured at all when it came to talking about certain aspects of my life. His work was a direct reflection on how he cared about people.

While talking about Renee had been a little uncomfortable, somehow I knew he wouldn't push me to talk about the things or people I didn't want to talk about. It was really the first time I had ever focused with someone else on how Renee's death had made me feel, and it made me appreciate him even more that he had sacrificed his shirt for me to cry on.

I felt close to him. Maybe when it was time to tell him about my life in Forks, maybe I could do it without the tears and without letting the pain of it all show through. It was almost like it didn't matter anymore. Maybe it didn't. Maybe enough time had passed for me to heal myself. What was done was done. It was time to move on.

My night at work last night had been an uneventful one. In truth, as busy as it was, it was mostly disappointing. The first thing I did last night was search for Debbie, who had called in sick with the flu. When I called her that morning after I had woken up, she could barely talk and she was coughing badly. Steve, a guy she was seeing from Albuquerque was supposed to come 'tend' to her later on.

I kept our conversation short and just made plans to have lunch with her on Monday. I didn't want to tell her all that had happened over the phone. The other reason my night had been so disappointing was because I had a small hope that Peter would complete his project and pop in out of the blue. It didn't happen. When I got home last night, though, I had a small surprise waiting for me at the door.

Peter had sent me a rather unconventional bouquet of dead roses in a very beautiful crystal vase. It was nothing too ornate, though, and the card he had included had been both sweet and morbidly funny in its own way.

_Just a little something to remind you of me and to let you know that I am a romantic at__heart._

_See you tomorrow._

_P._

When I saw the bouquet, it made me laugh so hard I nearly pissed my pants. It wasn't until I tripped on a board in my hallway that the tumble down frightened it out of me. Anyone else would have viewed dead roses as an insult or a form of vengeance, but I saw it for what it was. A reminder that he was very sweet, very funny, and also technically dead. But that was just a small issue for him, really.

I spent the day cleaning my house. I cleaned the fireplace in the living room, mopped the kitchen floor, and washed all my bedding. When it was time to get ready, I took a long shower, washing my hair twice. I shaved my legs and underarms, and took care of my bikini line. The panties I had picked out had a tendency to pull hair.

I used a big rod and I curled my hair, giving it some waves and some bounce. I kept the make-up down to a bare minimum, with just some neutral eye shadow and a faint line of brown liner beneath my eyes.

I had bought a Sugar and Rox tank top the year prior that I had never felt the need to wear until then. It was white, tightly fitted, and it had a flocked tattoo Fleur de Lis symbol on the front. I wore a pair of dark wash, low rise, boot cut jeans and finished the look off with a brown pair of Mary Jane leather uppers that had comfortable, flexible outer soles. They would grip any slick surfaces, and since we were going to the amusement park, we would be doing a lot of walking.

They made me feel short, though, and I realized yesterday that without my heels on, Peter was indeed very tall. He had a good foot on me, but the difference in height made it just perfect for cuddling into his chest. I had a white hoodie I was also taking along to wear because it would be chilly for just a tank top alone. It had been partly cloudy all day, and now the clouds were thick and blocking out the sun.

I looked over to the little clock sitting on the table by the door. Five fifty-five. _Should I wait outside, or should I wait for him to come to the door?_ The nervousness was starting to set in. Maybe I didn't need the hoodie. Peter made my blood boil in a good way. I could already feel the anticipation in my face.

I turned off the TV and grabbed my keys, my phone, driver's license, and the cash I was taking along with me. I walked over to the entryway and that's when I heard Peter's truck pull into the driveway. I walked outside and pulled the door shut so I could lock the deadbolt. My spine started to tingle. I could more or less feel him standing behind me.

That's when I wondered if a person could die from ogling too much. He literally took my breath away.

His eyes were the first thing I looked at. They were a bright, crimson red. He seemed a little nervous, but his face broke into a breathtaking smile. I smiled back at him and appraised the rest of him. So very tall, so very broad, and wearing a pair of aged and faded blue jeans that made his thighs look _huge. _His legs went on for miles.

Peter had on a flannel plaid shirt with the buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up. It was red, white, black, and brown and it covered a white, long sleeve t-shirt. He had on a pair of brown suede, leather hiking spins. Very down to earth-looking. Even his large feet radiated sex.

"See something you like, Bunny? I see something _I_ like. Something I _really_ like." He looked me over from head to toe, and then back up again, his eyes coming to rest on my breasts.

"Quit staring at my boobs. That's rude."

I wasn't able to inject a chastising tone to my voice. My words came out with an embarrassing giggle. I never giggled.

"If you didn't want me to look, you wouldn't have worn that shirt. Or those jeans. My.._God_." I walked forward and playfully slapped his chest, giggling. He grabbed my left forearm and pulled me into him to hug me.

He was cold and hard and just so damn comforting. I pulled back to look up at his face. I didn't want my body to react embarrassingly. It was much too early and I wasn't bringing a spare pair of underwear. He looked happy and his grin was huge.

"So, did you get the flowers?" He took my left hand and pulled me down the sidewalk toward his truck.

"Yes, I did. Thank you. They were very nice and they made me laugh."

He grinned. "Good. I'm glad you liked them." He cleared his throat. "I missed you yesterday after I left. I wanted you to know that I was thinking about you. It actually took me a long time to finish my work. I kept drawing your goddamn lips when I was supposed to be drawing a support beam. Here, hop up."

Peter had pulled open his passenger door and he helped me step onto his tube step. He had one hell of a nice truck. It was just like mine, except it was dark blue, chromed out, and very clean. The interior was gray leather, and I noticed that besides a nice radio and CD player, he also had a scanner built in to the lower part of the dash. He shut the door and went around to get in.

He climbed into the driver's seat while I was putting on my seat belt. "You have a really nice truck, Peter."

He smiled at me and put the key into the ignition. "Thanks. I love Ford. Mine just has a bigger engine and it's a different color, though. If you don't mind me asking, how can you afford the payments on yours? It's not a cheap truck and you don't exactly have a high paying job."

He looked a little regretful after he said it. I guess he thought I'd take it as an insult.

"I don't have payments. Debbie and I went to Las Vegas last October just for a weekend getaway. She likes to go there a couple times a year and I had turned twenty-one in September. I...I won it, plus five grand, at Caesar's Palace. I had to use the cash and then some for taxes, though. Not that I'm complaining."

He was surprised. "Wow. I should hope not. Do you know what the odds are of that happening?"

"I do." I smiled at him, remembering what it had felt like. "I never won anything like that before. I started crying, and I dropped my driver's license when I tried to hand it to a manager. I only have to worry about registration and insurance. I don't waste money and I'm very frugal. I actually do pretty well for myself on what I make at the club. As far as my house is concerned, when Mom died, Phil gave me the majority of her life insurance policy. So, I bought my house and put the rest into a savings account. So I don't have a house payment either."

Peter gave me a small smile. "That was nice of him. You still talk to him?"

I sighed. "We keep in touch. We used to talk a lot, but now it's once in a blue moon. We send each other birthday cards and Christmas cards to tell each other how we're doing, though. The last time I heard from him, he was seeing one of my mom's nurses from the hospital. They ran into each other at the grocery store, I guess. I hope it worked out for him. Renee would have wanted him to move on."

"What about you? I mean, it hasn't really been that long since she passed. It doesn't bother you that he was able to move on so quickly?" Peter asked.

"It bothered me at first, but the more I thought about it...He's eight years younger than my mom. He might decide he wants a child of his own one day. With Renee…well, one was enough for her, so it wasn't an option. I'm happy for him. He really took great care of her when she was alive, and my Mom really loved him."

Peter smiled at me. "Then good for him. He deserves to be happy."

"I agree." I was rather happy myself. I had managed to not get choked up and kept the watery eyes at bay. I sure as hell had cried enough yesterday.

Peter turned slightly to reach behind the back of the console. He pulled out a large, flat box. A gift box. "Here, this is for you." He plopped the box on my lap.

I sighed. It was better to tell him now.

"I should probably tell you that I don't react well when people buy me things. I don't care for the unnecessary attention. You have already given me plenty of it. But thank you."

He frowned and reprimanded me.

"Quit your bitching and just open it. It's something you need. You'll need it later on." He reached the stop sign for Cerrillos and was waiting to pull out across traffic. He was still mumbling under his breath. "Jesus Christ, you act like it's a goddamn sin for someone to buy you something simple."

I glared at him momentarily before removing the top off the rather large sweater box.

Inside the box was something white. Clothing. I pulled it out and discovered it was a handmade poncho made out of Berber fleece, with some intricate beading along the neck, shoulder, and arm lines. The large sleeves were fringed at the ends, and so was the bottom. It would go down to about mid-thigh. It was hooded, and it felt very warm. I liked it. A lot.

"Peter, this is very nice. I really do like it. Thank you."

He smiled at me pointedly. That's more like it. You're welcome."

"Why will I need it later? Is it supposed to be cold?" I asked.

He turned left on Cerrillos to head down to I-25. He would glance at me every now and then, his eyes full of something I couldn't place.

"Well, Cliff's is only open until nine. I thought after we were done there, we'd go up to Cibola for a little while and talk. There's a nice spot up there that's got a great view and a little fire pit. Unless there's something else you wanna do." Peter glanced at me nervously.

I tried to contain the swell of nervousness, but a chill ran down my spine. The thought of spending some alone time with Peter, in the outdoors and by a fire, was too tempting.

"No, no. That sounds great. I didn't realize the park closed that early. It's a good idea. I like it."

He gave a nod while he kept his eyes on the road. "You sure? If you're nervous about being alone with me, we can do something else. I really don't care what we do, just as long as I get to spend some time with you."

"I'm sure! I mean, I want to. I'm supposed to be nervous. It's our first date," I told him, way too enthusiastically.

He chuckled a little. "Good. Then it's settled. And you're right; I imagine everyone's a little nervous on the first 'date'." He let go of the wheel long enough to mimic quotation marks. "At least we can say we got that first kiss out of the way. And the second...and the third. And I should probably thank you for that lap dance."

He made a face. He looked a little embarrassed. He chuckled a bit before reaching over to grab my hand, and then he lifted it up to his lips and laid a sweet peck on top. A nice shiver went down my spine.

Peter seemed almost giddy. I shifted my eyes away from him out of embarrassment. I knew exactly what he was talking about. We had basically dry fucked each other on the kitchen floor. To call it fucking, though, seemed pretty harsh, especially when you considered the emotions that took place before getting there. Either way, it was the best dry fuck of my life.

He held onto my hand, his arm overlapping mine on the console, and he didn't let go. I was soaking up the affection, and it just helped me relax that much more.

"So…anyways," I breathed out. I was having trouble breathing already. "Have you ever been to Cliff's?"

"Nope. Have you?"

"Nope. The last amusement park I went to was when I still lived in Phoenix. Phil took me and my Mom up to Ohio to visit his parents and we went to King's Island during the summer. I love amusement parks. Did you know it's the only place that people can go and lose their kids while making it look like an accident?"

Peter laughed. It was quiet for a minute or two after that but not uncomfortably so, traffic was a little thick as he passed a van that was going too slow.

I was very impressed with his driving skills. We were on I-25 and he set the cruise control at seventy-eight miles per hour. The speed limit was seventy-five. He didn't get too close to the back of anyone, and he hit the gas to get past a semi. I would do that too. I hated driving next to semis. I always worried about having some freak accident where they'd jack-knife right when I would try to pass them, even on a clear day.

I gazed out at the desert landscape. When I looked over at Peter again, he was looking back and forth at me and the road with a curious grin on his face. I smiled shyly back at him and giggled, silently this time.

"What were you thinking about just now?"

"Nothing," I said quietly.

"Bullshit. Tell me."

"I was thinking about your driving. You drive really well." For a vampire.

Peter directed his gaze back out the windshield but his face fell a little. "You meant I drive well for a vampire, didn't you?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah. Yeah, you do." I smiled nervously at him.

I was beginning to wonder if maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Maybe I had just opened the door to some questions I really just wanted to avoid.

There was a silent moment before Peter finally answered, and he didn't take the route I had suspected he would take.

"I guess you can say I've always figured…what's the rush? I'm immortal and the future's unknown, right? So, why rush when you can just coast your way there and enjoy the scenery along the way?" Peter smiled at me before looking back at the road.

"Besides, driving like a bat out of hell only creates unnecessary attention. Plus, I could frighten the living hell out of some guy I'm passing if I were to put the pedal to the metal. All it takes for someone like you is to lose your faculties for just one second and you could veer off the road or slam on the brakes and lose control. You see what I'm getting at?"

"Yeah. I do. I guess I really never thought about that side of it," I said quietly.

He had a point, and it made me think of the Cullens, who had always seemed to be in a hurry. There was always that chance that someone else could be taken off guard by a blur of metal passing by them at top speed. I guess I shouldn't have been too surprised by the way Peter seemed mindful of others; and not just others; the human race.But I was.

Maybe subconsciously I was comparing him to Edward. But there really was no comparison at all. Peter was older when he was changed and much more mature than any of the boys I had loved.

It had grown quiet again. Even Peter realized it, so he changed the subject.

"So, Bella, twenty questions. I'll go first. What's your favorite color?"

"It changes all the time. It used to be black. Then for a while it used to be gray. Now…now it's red. What's yours?"

Peter was smiling. "Mine has changed over the years. I guess maybe it changes with my mood. For the longest time, it used to be black. Then it was blue. And now…now I'd have to say it's white. And I've always detested pink. What about music? What kind of music do you listen to?"

"Um...I like everything, pretty much. I guess it all depends on the song, or whatever. Working at a club, though, makes me appreciate the silence more, so I don't listen to a whole lot when I'm at home. But I bet you already figured that out." I threw him a look of sarcasm and he smiled mischievously at me.

"Listening to anything for nine hours at full volume makes a person appreciate the quiet. But I tend to appreciate most genres. I like very little rap, though. _Very_ little. What about you?"

Peter shrugged. "Country. Mostly classic country, like Hank Williams, Jim Reeves, and Merle Haggard. Country music lately though, has gone a little too rock for my taste. But I like Brad Paisley, Allen Jackson, and I've always liked George Strait. There are a few others. Classic country really won't ever die, not with me anyway."

The volume of Peter's radio was on its lowest setting. He was listening to George Benson again.

"My dad's the same way. His favorite has always been Conway Twitty. I like Conway, but I like the women, too. Patsy Cline and Tanya Tucker. I understand where you're coming from when you say it's gone a little too rock, but I can appreciate an artist for wanting to explore another genre and reach out to those who have their mind set on one type of music. You'll still have those who stay with it."

Peter nodded and smiled. "What about TV? What's your favorite TV show?"

"I don't watch much TV. I never really have. But I tend to watch the stuff that's as close to real life as you can get."

"Reality shows?"

"No. Well, I watch a couple. Shows like Survivor and Big Brother turn me off. I like the real stuff where people are trying to stay alive while earning a paycheck. Like Ice Truckers or The Deadliest Catch. That's my favorite. I've watched it since it was first just a one shot documentary."

Peter was watching the road, grinning. He was so relaxed. His one hand was holding mine, the other was holding onto the steering wheel with just three fingers. "I bet I can guess your favorite boat."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise when he looked over. "You watch it?"

"Yep."

"Okay, guess then."

"The Time Bandit."

I hesitated. "You're right. How did you know that?"

Peter shrugged. "Well, besides the Cornelia Marie, which is _my_ favorite, the other crews tend to act out now for the viewer's pleasure. Can't you tell? They're really starting to glorify and inject more drama into the job they do. They've all changed since the show became more popular. Fame does that to a person, I imagine. Not that they don't deserve the attention. But those two ships and crews kind of pass the danger off as something that occurs on a normal basis. Plus I kind of figured all you women take to Andy Hillstrand like a crab takes to a scallop bed. You all think he's just so cute."

Peter's impersonation of a dreamy woman needed some work. He was too manly to pull it off.

I had to laugh, though, because he was right. Andy was a funny guy, and he _was_ cute.

"He is. But you know what? They've all been affected with their time in the spotlight. Even the crew on the Time Bandit. They all have their web pages or guest appearances and magazine articles. It's only a matter of time before they make it to the big screen, and then it'll all really go to their heads."

Peter grinned and nodded. "Yep. What do you think about Keith?"

"Oh, God. Keith and the Wizard. He and his brother are pricks. Plus, I get the feeling when I watch some of the outtakes or After the Catch that the other captains don't care for him too much, either."

"I bet you're right. I couldn't believe that shit when Keith yelled at his brother because he didn't wake him up to see the walrus sign. That guy takes superstition way too seriously."

"What?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

Peter looked over at me. He was animated. "Didn't you see that? Monte was driving the boat and Keith was sleeping. He didn't wake him up when the boat came across some walruses playing out in the water."

"No, I've missed the past few weeks. I recorded the whole season anyway because of you, work, school…so I started catching up today. I've only seen the first two episodes of this season." I gave him an irritated look.

"Me? What do you mean?" Peter was smiling like a Cheshire cat.

I glowered at him. I didn't answer him right away because I was trying to think of how I wanted to phrase it.

"Don't get a big head, I said work and school, too. Now that school work is not an issue, I've got plenty of free time to catch up."

He looked confused. "What about school? Why isn't it an issue now?"

I sighed. "I dropped school this week. I missed a few days of classes and…well, rather than fail, I just decided to take a break until the fall semester."

Peter frowned and groaned. "Why did you miss? Because of me?" he asked, a little quieter than usual.

"No, it was because of _me_," I told him seriously and with as much persuasion as I could muster up. "I might have spent those first couple weeks after I met you a little on the scared side; scared because I thought you wanted to...you know. But it's not your fault. I'm the one who decided not to go. To tell you the truth, I need the break anyway. I've been going to school nonstop for the past two years. I was just trying to get ahead for my Bachelor's."

He was quiet for a moment. "Well, if it's not my fault, then it's not yours either. I don't know _what_ happened to you, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to know, but I can't blame you for being afraid or cautious. It's kind of ironic, but I always thought our kind had a knack for self-preservation. Now I know that with you it's purely instinctual, whether you're human or vampire."

I didn't know how to respond to that. I didn't want to think about Edward or what he had said about my sense of self-preservation. I didn't want thoughts of him or the Cullens invading my date with Peter. But maybe it couldn't be helped.

_You have no sense of self-preservation._

"So where were we? Oh, TV. I'm a big Andy Griffith fan. I usually don't watch much, either, but I do like the racier shows. You know, like on HBO? Of course, lately those have gone to crap. True Blood. I turned that shit off after the first episode. If humans were actually aware of vampires in the world, it'd create a worldwide panic to hunt us down. I doubt anyone would want to drink a bottle of beer with you while your fangbanger friend nurses his bottle of blood. You ever watch it?"

He was giving me an out for now. It was in his eyes.

I smiled at him. "One episode. I couldn't watch it either."

We talked a lot about our favorite movies and dissected each others opinions on characters or plots. Peter kept his questions simple, focusing on just the little things, like what we liked and disliked. Sometimes we agreed and sometimes we didn't. Peter's favorite actress was Raquel Welch. He had fallen in love with her after watching One Million Years B.C. and Hannie Caulder. He used to love watching A Farewell to Arms with his wife, but he doesn't like it anymore. He thought it was a fucking tragedy when I told him I'd never watched Gone with the Wind all the way through. I told him I'd read the book.

We both agreed that Forrest Gump was the movie you could watch and never tire of. We both agreed that Signs was the best alien invasion movie ever made, at least from my generation. When we started talking about M. Night Shyamalan's other movies, we had mixed opinions. I loved Unbreakable and The Sixth Sense. He hated them both. I really liked The Village, but Peter had mixed feelings about it. He liked Lady in The Water, but I didn't care for it at all.

The only response Peter had about The Happening was, "What the fuck was that?"

I had to agree with him.

We talked about summer movies and what we were looking forward to seeing. He was really looking forward to the new Star Trek, just to see if it would suck since J.J. Abrams was directing it. I told him I was going to make plans to take Debbie to see the Transformers sequel as soon as it was released because she'd been a fan of the series since she was a little girl. Peter was looking forward to it too. He thought they'd done a good job with the storyline and the effects. Peter had the strangest smile on his face, and when I asked him why he was smiling, he just said he was thinking about seeing the movie.

We talked about books and authors we liked - or in Peter's case, no longer liked. He said he had finally grown bored with some of the classics I rattled off, especially Pride and Prejudice. He said he could never open it again. It turned out Peter was a big Dean Koontz fan. He asked me if I had read a book called Lightning. Since I hadn't, he was going to give me his copy to read. We talked about places he'd been to, as well as places I'd been to, although there really weren't that many. He said he lived for a short time in Mexico and Canada, but he changed the subject when I asked him when.

The questions seemed to get more personal and more difficult as time went on. We only had about ten minutes left of driving time when he asked about my education.

"What are you majoring in anyway?"

"Education. I want to teach elementary. But I want an education that will give me the option to explore other avenues later on down the road if teaching becomes too monotonous. I don't know, maybe that will be enough. But you never know what can happen," I answered honestly.

Peter nodded. "That's what I used to do. When I was still human, I mean. I was a teacher in San Antonio, Texas. When I turned eighteen, I was no longer a ward of the state. And when my parents died, the state sold what was left of the farm and they put the money into a trust for Pauline and I. It wasn't much, but enough so I could go to school. I attended a teaching college in Mankato while I worked in a shoe repair shop. That's where I learned to cobble. I lived in a boarding house."

He took a breath. "Back then, if you wanted to teach, you could go through an accelerated program because the demand for teachers was very high. After I graduated I started looking for teaching positions out of state. Minnesota sucked. It was too dreary and wet, and I wanted to go somewhere warm and sunny. It's funny, I guess, because now I look forward to those dreary and wet days."

"Yeah, but weren't you still sick a lot? I mean, you had an overactive thyroid, right? Didn't it make sense to stay in a cooler climate?" I asked.

Peter softly smiled at me. "You remember."

He was talking about yesterday's conversation. Of course I did. He cleared his throat and looked back at the road.

"It did make sense, but that didn't stop me from wanting to make the change. As far as being sick...well, it wasn't so bad. Doctors used me as a guinea pig for case studies. There was always a pill or four to get me by. I used to take thyroid meds, coagulants, and other drugs to build up my immune system. They helped a lot. Too much, in fact - for every step forward my body made, I would take two steps back."

"What do you mean?"

Peter was hesitant. He winced and groaned. "Side effects. I developed high blood pressure, kidney problems, and…well, I couldn't...I couldn't..."

He was going through the motions of looking down at his lap and letting go of the wheel so he could wave his hand around and around.

"You don't have to say it." I swallowed. "That must have been hard."

_Oh, no._

I looked at him, horrified, and tried to shrink into myself because Peter's bellowing laughter told me he'd caught the fact that I needed to shove my foot in my mouth. I tried to pull my hand away to cover my face, but Peter wouldn't let go.

When his laughter faded, he said, "No, Bella. It wasn't hard at all. It was just a temporary setback. I won't say anything more about it because you look like you're about to fucking burst. That was funny."

"Thank you."

Peter chuckled to himself for a few more seconds before he looked over at me and smiled.

"Anyways, a Dean at the college told me that the San Antonio school system was hiring several teachers for a new school that was being built. So, I took a chance and I moved to San Antonio. I was hired immediately. It took me a while to find a place to live, though, so I had to shack up in an old rail car for a while. One of the administrators found out I was homeless and helped me get into a boarding house. Two years later, when I was settled into my teaching position and finally had enough money, I bought a small house. I still cobbled shoes on the side for extra money. For some reason, I enjoyed it. Besides, teacher's pay has always sucked."

"So what grade did you teach?" Peter had begun to squeeze my fingers delicately, and he ran his thumb back and forth over my hand, which was almost numb. I didn't complain. It didn't hurt.

"Second grade at first. After three years, I rotated back and forth between second and third. Some of my students, a lot of them, in fact, were Mexican-Americans. I grew quite attached to some of those kids. It seemed they were always willing to learn as much as possible, and I was eager to help them. I taught up until '36."

He went silent.

I had already done the math the night Peter told me how old he was. He was twenty-seven when he was changed. He was born in 1909, so that meant he was changed in 1936. I figured out that this was another part of his life he was finding difficult to talk about because the look on his face now was nothing close to being happy.

Still, I asked. "What happened to you?"

He sighed and tried to smile, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Let's leave that for question twenty, okay? But Bella, I can also ask you the same thing. About this..." He lifted our entwined hands and stroked my scar.

I felt a swell of something hit my chest; nervousness, fear, because it was the first time he'd made some sort of push towards my history.

He deserved some answers too. "Let's leave it for number twenty. Tit for tat."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said.

I corrected him. "If you show me yours, I'll show you mine."

"Are we still talking about our histories here? Because I'd have no objections at all to showing you mine."

Peter's eyes were boring into mine, and his voice dripped with desire. I was well on my way.

I felt my heart stutter and I realized that I'd stopped breathing. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire. I was hot and starting to sweat. I couldn't move a muscle. And he sure as hell wasn't watching the road.

His pupils had dilated, the red on the outer rims of his irises growing darker. It was such a _feral_ look, and even though I was sitting, I could feel weakness in my knees. I couldn't look away from him. Peter looked away and back out the windshield. He turned on the air conditioning.

_What the hell was that?_

"That was me trying to seduce you. I'm pretty sure if I kept it up, I would have succeeded." He said, his voice thick. He cleared his throat.

I hadn't realized I had said that out loud.

After a couple deep breaths I laid into him. "That wasn't a very nice thing to do."

Peter looked over at me with a sarcastic, questioning look on his face. "Really? It wasn't?" The burning stare was there again.

I looked away from him and sat silently for a moment, trying to talk my overactive hormones into relaxing. "Okay, maybe it was. But maybe your timing was just a little off. After all, you don't put out on the first date. So why bother?"

"Do you want me to answer that honestly, or would you prefer I lie?"

"I would prefer you answer me honestly. I don't care for people who lie."

His face twisted for a moment before he worked up a shrug and look of seriousness. Of course, it changed into a mischievous smile. "Okay, fine."

In an instant, he turned his head and the burning stare was back. "Why bother? Well, I could practically get off on the way your body responds to me. The way your heart stutters for two beats and you flush? Jesus. You don't even breathe until you realize that you aren't. And you…your body temperature rises almost a whole degree when your blood rushes to that sweet little area between your legs. Is that enough honesty for you, Bella?"

I took a deep breath and tried to make the heat in my face go away. I had unconsciously pulled my hair to the side with my free hand to create a curtain between me and Peter. I couldn't look at him because the heat and my desire was too intense.

"And when you blush…well, that shit right there makes me believe that there's not an immortal man walking the face of this earth who has seen that and not gotten a boner, even if it's just because they're attracted to your blood."

I couldn't help it. I burst into a fit of laughter. I was so embarrassed, hot, and nearly out of control, it wasn't funny. I had asked for honesty and I got it. There was no sense in trying to hide beneath my hair because the fact was he could still see my face. I ran my free hand back through my hair and moved it out of the way.

When I looked over at Peter, he was laughing to himself. The smile on his face was so bright. He was just so damn beautiful. He was capable of making me wet with just a stare that pierced through my entire being. He knew it too.

Peter squeezed my hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you all hot and bothered and embarrass you."

I smiled at him. "Yes you did. I asked for an honest answer and you gave me one. Besides, I might be embarrassed, but I'm not so uptight that I can't take that as a compliment."

"Good. Because I'd much prefer to tell you exactly how I'm feeling and what my thoughts are at all times." He was laughing silently again, but I had a feeling he was completely serious.

_My underwear isn't going to make it through the night._

"You get embarrassed easily, don't you?"

"Yes, but I've actually toughened up a bit since working at the bar. I had to. And I used to be really clumsy. So clumsy that I couldn't walk across a flat surface without tripping. I've worked through a little of that, but occasionally I still eat dirt."

Peter chuckled. "Well, then I guess I better hold on to you all night so I can save you from yourself. Tell me, though, what's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?"

I was thrilled with the idea of him holding on to me all night. The idea of him touching me made me tingle. I didn't answer his question right away. Instead, I took a moment of silence to calm down, thankful again because he was changing the subject.

"Tell me." Peter squeezed my hand.

"I will. I'm just trying to…figure it out."

It'd been a long time since I'd thought about it. A long, long time.

"Okay. Well, I was in the fourth grade and at my school's Christmas concert. I had to sing a small solo in The Little Drummer Boy. I was nervous. Really nervous. I mean, it's one thing to sing in class, but to get up there and sing by yourself in front of all the parents? Anyways, our music teacher, Mrs. Richards, well, she had on this really nice white dress. Why she chose to wear white for our Christmas concert I'll never know, but..."

I took a breath. "My stomach was upset. She was handing out all our little drummer props, you know? Little drums that we slung over our necks with drummer sticks. Well, when she got to me, my stomach heaved, and oh, God…I threw up all over Mrs. Richards' pretty dress."

Peter was laughing boisterously.

"It was awful. Renee had fixed me spaghetti and meatballs that night and...and I threw up my entire dinner. Mrs. Richards started gagging. I felt so bad for her. There was no one to back her up, so she had to clean off the chunks on her dress and continue with the concert. I felt better after I threw up, but I had to sit out. I just remember her up there, trying not to look pissed because she had this big red and orange stain on the front of her dress. I've never felt so embarrassed my entire life."

Peter was still laughing hard. It was funny, but not _that_ funny.

We had reached Albuquerque. I could see the Cibola Forest and Sandia Peak in the distance. It was still light out, but the sun was hidden somewhere behind the clouds. Peter's clock on the dash read six forty-five. It wouldn't get dark until a little after eight, so we had plenty of time to enjoy the park.

As he was getting off at our exit, I asked him, "So, what's yours?"

"What?"

"What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?"

Peter grimaced. "Uh...I'll tell you later."

"Oh, bullshit. I told you mine, so you're supposed to tell me yours, remember? Tit for tat. If I showed you mine, now show me yours. It's not fair if you don't."

Peter laughed and groaned at the same time. "I know. But it's really bad. Plus, I have to answer question twenty first. It'll make more sense if I wait. I promise I'll tell you. I won't forget." Peter tapped his head.

"That's good because I'm not going to let it slide," I mumbled.

"I know you won't."

Peter turned left at the entrance to the park. The parking lot wasn't very full at all, which made me smile because hopefully we wouldn't have to stand in lines long. Even Peter noticed it. He thought maybe the cloudy weather was keeping people away. When we parked, I watched and waited as he put in a pair of contact lenses to obscure his red eyes. I shared my opinion with him on that while I tried to wake up my hand.

"You know, it's a shame you have to do that. That brown you use really dulls your eyes. Why not use another color, like blue?"

He gave me a disgusted look. "Didn't you ever mix colors in school? Red and blue make purple. Do I seem like the type of guy who wants purple eyes?"

"Well, no, but they'd be really...'pretty'." I smiled at him.

He shook his head while he put in the other contact lens. He mumbled under his breath, but it was loud enough for me to hear. "Fucking purple. I kill people and she thinks I should do it with purple eyes." He raised his voice a little bit louder. "I'm not a 'pretty' vampire. I'm devastatingly handsome and my body screams masculinity. Purple eyes would clash with the rest of my image."

He retrieved his wallet from the middle console and got out of the truck. I opened my door. "You're also a conceited bastard," I mumbled.

Peter laughed wickedly as he walked around to my side of the truck.

He took my right hand and we walked through the lot and over to the main entrance. The first stop was the ticket counter. I asked if I could pay, and of course I was given a dirty look. The air was filled with bells and whistles, as well as the occasional screams of laughter and terror from people enjoying the rides. Peter grabbed a park map and we looked at all the different rides, deciding where to go first. I could tell by looking at him that he really wanted to ride the roller coaster. He kept looking at the thing.

It was called The New Mexico Rattler, and he let me pull him down the concourse to the entrance. It wasn't busy at all, and on the way there we talked about what I wanted to ride next. The roller coasters stopped running when it was dark, and the other one was just a little one anyway. It was on the other side of the park, so we decided to just ride everything in between. There were a few water rides, but we decided it wasn't in my best interest to get all wet, especially if we were going to Cibola after the park closed.

Peter smiled a lot. No, he glowed with excitement and anticipation. The most disturbing thing for me was the obvious amount of attention that Peter was attracting, not just from women and girls, but from men too. I had to suck up my irritation a few times when a couple of women literally stopped in their tracks in front of us to look him up and down. He let go of my hand and wrapped an arm around my waist.

I felt an overwhelming sense of possessiveness. When I looked up at him, he was giving me a wicked look, and he squeezed me a little tighter.

When we got to the top of the building to get on the roller coaster, there was nobody standing between the bars for the first seats in the first car, so we took that spot. I was practically beaming because while we waited for the roller coaster, Peter pulled my back up against his chest and wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on top of my head. I had a feeling the thing I would remember the most about this experience was the cuddle time. Peter didn't seem to have any reservations about PDA.

It was...awesome. So said the kids behind us. It had been a while since I had been on a roller coaster, and my hands gripped the bar something fierce. Peter kept his right arm around my backside, smiling at me and trying to coerce me into letting go. But I wouldn't. The first drop was amazing. The second one, too. The entire ride was filled with hair-raising drops and sharp turns, and it went very fast. There was even an underground tunnel. One left turn snapped my neck fiercely to the side. The people behind us were screaming and laughing, and so was I. Peter sat silently with a large smile on his face, completely relaxed.

When the ride was done, I wanted to ride it again. I didn't say anything, but Peter pulled me back into the small line that had formed. We couldn't get the first car, so we sat four back. When we went over the second drop, Peter screamed like one of the girls sitting in front of us. She had really let one out on the first drop. I had to laugh because the imitation was perfect.

After that, and after a stop at the bathroom for me, we rode a ride called The Cliff Hanger. It would shoot you up two hundred feet into the sky and then drop you back down. We rode that one twice, too, and I loved it. That ride made me scream because the force of the drop frightened me at first. It reminded me of jumping off the cliff at First Beach.

Between the rides, Peter held on to my waist as we walked the concourse. We were waiting in line for a ride called The Rock O' Plane when he swept my hair to the back and leaned down to place a light kiss on my neck. When I craned my neck up to look at him, he just looked at me. His eyes were full of depth and unspoken words. All I could do was stare back.

I was falling. Falling fast. We didn't even notice that the line had moved up.

After we rode The Rock O' Plane, and after some choice words from me to never ride that thing again, we made our way over to The Falling Star.

It hadn't escaped my notice that nothing seemed to faze Peter when it came to riding the rides. We were walking by a grouping of kiddie rides when I asked him about it.

"Did you like that one? I mean, you don't seem fazed at all. What's it like for you? It's got to be different."

He stopped in his tracks, sliding his hand to my side while standing directly in front of me. He looked away for a moment, a look of concentration on his face.

He was calculating when he looked back at me. "Do you really want to know what it's like for me?"

"Yeah. I just asked you, didn't I?" I looked at him, curious. He was up to something.

Peter looked around again before he looked back down at me. "Okay."

The air rushed out of me when Peter bent down and threw me over his shoulder.

"Peter! What the hell are you doing?"

"Showing you."

I realized he was walking over to one of the kiddie rides.

"Peter, put me down. Right now!"

"Do you mind? My date here wants to take a ride." He was talking to one of the people running the rides.

_Oh, God._

"No, I don't!"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Thanks."

"Peter!" Struggling was futile. He wasn't letting go and he had a good grip on my legs. His other hand was cupping my ass.

When he plopped me down, he made quick work of the seat belt while I tried to slap his hands away. I listed off a string of profanities towards him.

"Shh. There are kids around," Peter said, laughing.

I was going to be riding in my very own personal doggy on The Doggy Go Round. It was red.

When Peter had me strapped in, he ran back through the open gate to stand with the other parents who were waiting and laughing. My face…no, my whole body was hot. When I went to remove the seat belt to get out, the guy running the ride told me I needed to stay seated because it was starting. I sat there and fumed at Peter.

When the ride started, I heard the hiss of the hydraulics and I watched some of the other kids doggies rise up into the air. Mine was still sitting just above ground level. I had a broken doggy.

After a couple circles at a ridiculously slow speed, I finally glared over at Peter, who had been calling my name. He was almost doubled over with laughter and trying to tell me something. I couldn't really hear him over the snappy little tune coming out of the ride, but I finally heard him yell and jester with his hand to "pull the handle!"

That's when I saw a little, round bar sticking out just below the edge of the ride inside my compartment. I pulled the bar and heard the hydraulics hiss. My doggy went up into the air. There was a round of applause coming from everyone at the gate. I refused to look at him. Payback was going to be a bitch.

When the ride slowed down and came to a stop, I was the first one out. I went out the exit gate and walked right by Peter without so much as looking at him. I wasn't really that mad, but the bastard needed to be taught a lesson about fueling my potential for embarrassment.

He didn't let me get far. I was heading towards The Falling Star when his arms snared my waist and he pulled me back against him. He turned me around, wrapping his arms around me while I glared up at him.

"Bella, don't be mad," he said, trying not to laugh.

"You bastard. That was humiliating." I seethed.

Peter pulled me flush against him, hunching down slightly to bring his face close to mine. He used his come-hither voice. "Come on, Bella. You know you're not really mad. If you were, you'd be fighting me off instead of begging me with your eyes to kiss you. And you don't ever have to beg for that. I'll give you anything you want."

"Oh, go fuck your..."

He pressed his lips against mine quickly, not letting me finish my sentence. He kissed me softly at first with his lips parted just slightly.

_Oh, screw it._

I pulled his top lip into my mouth and sucked on it gently. Peter moaned contentedly and took my bottom lip into his. I felt him purr a little.

_Oh, God, I love that._

He pulled away quickly after a moment of bliss and just held me to him, rocking us slowly from side to side.

"Now, what were you saying?" Peter asked softly. His cold breath at my ear sent shivers down my spine. His arms tightened around my waist. He was being rather affectionate.

"Hmm...I forgot."

"Good. But to answer the question you asked before I purposely disregarded your ability to get embarrassed easily, I _am_ fazed. Wonderfully fazed because you're so beautiful when you're happy and having fun. Nothing thrills me more than watching you smile and laugh, Bella. So yes, I'm fazed. I haven't felt this alive in years. Longer than that, really."

His arms grew tighter. I was having a little trouble breathing, but I wasn't going to complain. All the anger - which wasn't very much - that I had in me for his little stunt, left my body in a rush.

I was falling hard.

Peter stood up tall and smiled again softly. He shifted his right arm around my waist and we slowly started walking down the concourse.

"Am I forgiven?" he asked with a wicked glint in his shitty brown eyes.

"For now. That was some pretty major sucking up, though. I've gotta hand it to you."

"Oh, Bunny. You haven't seen me at my best yet." He inhaled a deep breath through his nose and slowly exhaled. He suddenly seemed a little...tense.

After we rode The Falling Star, which throws you around in loops from one direction to the next, I started feeling a little queasy. Peter had me sit down on the curb of the concourse and put my head between my knees because I was the slight shade of a lime. He headed over to a concession stand to buy me a Sprite while I stayed on the curb.

I felt fine after a couple of minutes, but my stomach growled with hunger. I was a little hungry, and since we were at the amusement park, I was hungry for some funnel cake. When I lifted my head up, my mouth instantly began to water. I was a little surprised, too.

Peter handed me my Sprite and sat down next to me. He stretched his legs out in front of him and put a plate on his lap. On that plate was my craving.

I loved funnel cake, especially with a side of diced strawberries and laced with sugar. But just a small side because too much always made the funnel cake soggy. And no whip cream. I didn't like whip cream on my funnel cake.

Peter had brought me back a funnel cake that had just a small serving of strawberries sitting on the side, not in the middle. The middle was always the best part to eat because it was doused with powdered sugar.

That was really strange.

Peter looked at me, concerned. "What's the matter? Are you gonna get sick?"

I took a drink of my pop and shook my head. "No, no. It's just…it's weird. I was just thinking about funnel cake before you came back." I thought for a moment before I asked my next question. It was too weird that he knew exactly how I liked it.

"Peter, can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." He tore a piece off, spearing it with a fork.

"Are you gifted? I know vampires can have extraordinary traits, and some of the Cullens were gifted. Alice Cullen could see the future. And Edward Cullen could read minds. Can you read mine?" Peter brought the fork up to my mouth with a piece of funnel cake. I lunged at it.

He grinned. "I guess you could say I am, but I always thought of it as sort of a defect. But psychic? No. Let me ask you this, though. Have you ever noticed anything about our kind, something that distinguishes us from say...humans?"

"You're all beautiful?"

He shook his head. "No. Come on, think harder. What attracts our prey? What's a unique denominator that attracts our kind to humans?" He speared another piece and ripped it off. He ran it along the bottom of the plate and coated it with extra powdered sugar before bringing the fork up to my mouth.

It popped in my mind when I was chewing. "Your," I swallowed, "scent. You all smell sweet. But I can't distinguish one from the other."

Peter frowned and looked away for a moment before looking back at me. "Well, you shouldn't be able to. Human senses aren't honed like ours are. But that's my 'gift'. I'm scentless. I guess you could say it's a defense mechanism of sorts, but I've used it to work to my benefit also. Other vampires can't smell me. So, as long as they don't hear me or seeme, they have no way of detecting me. You get it?"

I finished chewing another piece. "Yeah. But you can smell and you have taste...I mean, I can taste you when we kiss. You're sweet, too."

Peter looked at me speculatively. "You shouldn't be able to, Bella. Are you sure it's not your imagination at work?"

"Well, kiss me and I'll tell you." I looked away, a little shocked by my own forwardness.

"No, I'll kiss you later. You're eating right now, and while the strawberries smell okay, this fried bread concoction does for me what cat vomit does for you. It's fucking gross."

I laughed. "Then let me feed myself. You don't have to do that."

He smiled, licking his lips. I was _really _wondering what he would taste like coated in powdered sugar. Imagination or not, Peter didn't need a sugar coating. I could eat him all day.

"Nope. I happen to like feeding you. But do you want something else? I never thought about taking you out to eat."

"No, this is perfect. I ate a late lunch, just so I wouldn't throw up on you while we were here," I told him as a matter-of-fact. He chuckled.

Peter watching me eat was only a little unnerving. We didn't say anything more. When he got to the strawberries, I tried to not look at him so much when I was chewing because he was watching me very intently. When I was done, he wiped my mouth with a napkin.

My stomach was now queasy for a whole different reason.

I took off my hoodie and tied it around my waist to try to cool down. I made a quick stop at a bathroom, and then we strolled down the concourse hand in hand. We talked about silly things, news, and politics. Peter hated watching the news, especially Fox news. He couldn't stand Nancy Grace and Bill O'Reilly. He usually just read the paper or watched David Letterman.

Peter just about freaked out when a guy with two large plugs in his ears and one in his nose walked by. He had my imagination running wild with visuals when we both agreed that in forty years that guy would be regretting he'd done that when his ear cartilage would be hanging down to his neck. He also didn't hide his opinion when a buxom blond walked by with three quarters of her tits hanging out of her spaghetti strap shirt. They were huge and he said she was cold. I walked away from him, but he ended up laying another stunner of a kiss on me. All was forgiven and forgotten. I just had to remember that he was still a man. Hell, even I had looked. You couldn't miss them.

We made our way over to the midway games, and Peter stopped at the quarter plate toss. If you could land three quarters, you could win a huge white or yellow tiger. We watched while a man and his small son spent a couple of dollars in quarters, failing with every toss.

"So, what do you think? Wanna give it a go?" he asked.

"No. Why waste the money? You haven't seen any of those things walking around the park, have you?"

"You're at an amusement park. You're supposed to waste it. Besides, you _can_ win. Just apply a little physics to the game." Peter let go and walked up to the low counter. He bought five dollars worth of quarters. The man and his son on the other side bought another five bucks worth. It was dark now and I was chilly again from Peter's arm and the cool air, so I put my hoodie back on.

I walked up and stood beside him. "What do you mean a little physics?"

Peter took a quarter and held it up in front of my face.

"Do you know what Newton's First Law is?" he asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. "Yeah, I do. An object at rest tends to stay at rest. An object in uniform motion tends to stay in uniform motion, unless it's acted upon by an external force."

"Smart ass." He winked.

"I excelled at Biology and Physics. _You_ asked." I smiled demurely.

"So, what's gonna happen when I throw it towards the plate? Think about it."

"I don't have to. It might bounce on one if you're lucky."

Peter took a step forward while I sat down on the counter. He threw a quarter and it hit the rims of two of the glass plates before it tumbled down below.

He looked at me speculatively. "Guess I'm not lucky. But what would happen if I bounced it off the ceiling first? Think, Newton."

I sat there and watched the man on the other side of the counter bounce two off the plates to the floor below. There was no way to do it unless you were lucky enough to stop the velocity and the motion on one plate enough to let it bounce onto another. But a straight drop from above would stop the current velocity. You'd only have to worry about the velocity it picked up while in free fall and hitting a spot directly over a plate.

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, if you bounce it off the roof, and hit a spot directly over a plate, it'll drop right down. And most likely, it'll drop straight down. It could land without bouncing completely off the plate, but you don't want to throw it hard. The ceiling would stop the inertia as long as you don't toss it too hard."

Peter just stared at me. There was some underlying emotion there, but I couldn't figure it out. After a moment, he turned around and took a quarter from the pile lying on the counter and tossed it high above. It hit the ceiling and fell back down…right on top of the plate in the center.

He picked up another quarter without even a glance in my direction and tossed it towards the ceiling. It landed on the same plate. The third quarter was the same. The attendant looked at him in awe, as did the man and the little boy on the other side of the counter. I sat there, shaking my head, and looked at the ground, laughing. Peter took one more quarter, tossed it into the air, and almost made a near perfect square of four quarters sitting in the middle of the plate.

"I'll take a large white one and a small white one."

The game attendant gave Peter a large white tiger that was stuffed into a plastic bag hanging from the ceiling and a small white one off the rack. Peter plopped the small tiger in my lap and walked around to the other side to the man and the little boy with the large tiger. The little boy was probably about five and saw him coming.

Peter said something quietly to the little boy's dad, and he nodded at him.

The little boy eyed him shyly. I listened as Peter squatted down and talked to him.

"This big one won't fit in my girlfriend's house. We were wondering if you'd like to have it."

There were no words to describe the feeling that came over me when the little boy shook his hand and told him, "Thank you." The father shook Peter's hand with a questioning and concerned look on his face.

When he walked back over casually with his hands in his pockets, he had a sly smile on his face.

"So, how many brownie points did I just earn?"

I looked at him and shook my head minutely. "I can't put a number on it."

"I didn't do it to impress you. That guy put ten bucks into this thing. That little boy would have been happy with a small one."

"I know. Besides, his dad's blue collar. He's probably some type of mechanic and probably just got off work a while ago. He picked up his son so he could bring him here."

Peter looked at me a little shocked. He smiled. "How do you know that?"

"The grease stains on his jeans, his knuckles... He works hard and he adores his son. That's why he was trying so hard. And the little boy? Well, I think he's just happy to be here with his dad."

Peter just looked at me, and though he was smiling I thought in his eyes I saw speculation. Even when I thought about it, I really had no idea where that came from. I guess I was a little observant.

"That's good, Bella. That's really good," he said quietly.

I stood up and reached up to put my palms on his cheeks. I kissed him softly, brushing my lips along the corners of his mouth. Peter latched on bending down, his arms holding me firmly against the front of his body, and wrapped me up in a cocoon.

We stood there, our foreheads touching while we looked at each other for one long perfect moment. My heart was doing its normal thing, but I didn't think I could ever get used to the way he could stimulate me when he touched my bare skin. My hoodie and shirt had risen up and he was caressing the small of my back with cold fingertips, taking my breath away.

I always thought that if I was ever at the point where I could move on again, love for me would happen slowly, if at all. I had fallen in love with Edward almost instantly, with no reservations whatsoever. With Jake, it had been a gradual process. We became best friends first, and in the end I had loved him enough to want to spend the rest of my life with him.

Then there was Peter, and I figured out I could love him without reservations because of what he was. A killer who preyed on human life. A kind and gentle man who was funny, smart, considerate, conceited, and not afraid to show emotion or tell you what he thought; and he was awfully damn handy in a hairy situation, whether it was possibly life threatening or just a small inconvenience.

I could love him no matter what. But not without fear as to what the future could bring. It would be a while before I would tell him that I was fortunate enough to figure out that I fell in love with him on this night. I just couldn't express myself so openly anymore.

At least that's what I thought at the time.

As long as he didn't fuck it up. As long as _I_ didn't fuck it up. Whichever. All I knew at that point was that I was a little nervous as to why he was looking at me adoringly. But I still caught a flash of pain or regret in his obscured eyes.

Spending a few years on the outside of people's lives and remaining emotionally unattached to any one individual or another makes you more aware of a person's quality and demeanor. I constantly observed people, watching them interact with one another. I watched their body language and facial expressions, listened to their tone of voice, and I believed I could pick out the good and the bad, the lies and the truth.

Peter was good, but he was also hiding something. Maybe it was the part of his past he hadn't yet told me about. Maybe he feared he would ruin things by telling me. I wouldn't judge him because of his past, but maybe _he_ was letting his past dictate the future.

I couldn't figure it out.

"It's about a quarter to nine. Are you ready to go?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I am. Thank you. This was just perfect."

******

******

Peter headed south before turning east on a large boulevard. It was six miles over to the mountain and he was going to park in the tramway lot. The Sandia Peak Tramway was one of the largest tramways in the world and it took you all the way to the top of Sandia Peak. I had never been on the tramway, but everyone I knew who had had told me it was a wonderful ride up the mountain. Peter had never ridden it, but he had been at the top of the peak. The area was used for skiing in the winter, but during the spring, summer, and fall, you could camp, walk along the trails in the park, and even eat or stay at the lodge at the top.

The landscape dramatically changed the closer you got to the mountain, especially further up due to precipitation. The edge of the Cibola Forest was mostly grassland, but you could look towards the top and see the notable terrain differences if it were daylight. The moon was out and the cloud cover was dissipating.

When we arrived at the parking lot for the Tramway, Peter told me to keep my hoodie on but to slip the poncho over it. Peter slipped out of his plaid shirt. He was now just wearing a long-sleeve, white T-shirt. It was snug on him across the shoulders. I watched him walk around to my side of the truck. He was quieter than usual.

His skin glowed in the moonlight. He was the most gorgeous man I had ever laid eyes upon.

My door was open and Peter leaned in, retrieving a small squeeze bottle and a lighter out of the glove box.

"What's that for?"

He stuck the lighter in his pocket and then bent down and lifted his pant leg. He put the squeeze bottle in his sock. "The fire. We're going up to the top of one of the spires in the canyon. It'll be cold up there. Wood might be wet."

That was news. "Uh, how are we getting up there? The tram is closed and I'm not wearing hiking boots," I told him as I got out of the truck.

He smiled at me. "Well, you're gonna ride on my back. I'm running and climbing."

I climbed back in the truck. "No, thanks. I'll wait here. I've experienced enough riding for the night."

"Bella..." he implored.

"Nope."

"Bella, it'll take me fifteen seconds to get us there. Come on, you've been brave all night. Be a little braver." Peter had leaned in and was nuzzling the left side of my neck. He was using his seductive tone again and rubbing both of his hands over the tops of my thighs. I was melting. So was my resolve.

And then he kissed the exposed flesh on my neck and ran his cold tongue to my jaw line.

He pulled back to scrutinize my face. His eyes were half-lidded and blazing with intensity. His contacts were starting to burn away. "I like it when you moan. A lot. Now quit being a chicken shit and come on. I won't drop you and I won't let you fall. I promise."

I groaned as he pulled me out of the truck. There were still a few people around the lot and on the walkway towards the tram. Peter pulled me in the opposite direction and we headed down a dirt path, away from the overhead lights and into the darkness.

I started thinking about the last time I had felt the unnerving rush of doing anything remotely dangerous. I had given up recklessness a long time ago, and even though plunging into the darkness with Peter was an enticing idea, the idea of flying there at lightning speed really sucked.

We were walking through low level grass that had been cut down. My feet were starting to get wet. Mary Jane's were not made for hiking. The bastard was going to clean my shoes when this was over.

Peter stopped.

"Bella, quit groaning," he said exasperatedly while turning to face me. He put the hood up on my poncho and tucked the loose hair that was hanging down inside the hood, and then he turned around and bent down. I tried to keep the groan to myself as I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. Peter grabbed onto my legs.

"Lock your ankles. When I start climbing, I won't be able to hold onto your legs. And Bella?"

"What?" He had started walking again, faster this time. I had tucked my face into the back of his neck and I could feel the power and the momentum building up in his legs and throughout the rest of him. He was going to let loose any second.

"Try not to piss your pants."

Peter ran. The breath was literally sucked out of me. The cold rush stung everything exposed, including my head. My hood had come off instantly. The velocity made my ears pop, and I knew we were going up in elevation. My face was buried in his neck and I chanced a glance.

It was dark and everything was mostly a blur except for what I could see in the distance. We were coming out of the grassland and I could see sporadic trees - Junipers - passing by in ripples. Vast darkness spread out before us. The ground looked like it had disappeared.

It had. We were airborne the moment Peter jumped.

I felt his hand leave my thigh and then a pressure on the nape of my neck. It was his hand. We were falling at an awkward angle.

But before I could scream, it was over. We had landed back on the ground, and I figured out why he had held onto my neck. His legs had absorbed most of the shock, along with his torso, but I felt the resounding effects through my spine. The breath I had managed to catch left my body in one big whoop.

"Are you alright?!"

"Yeah…?" The fact that my stomach was somewhere in my throat made me wonder just how far we had fallen.

I heard his maniacal laughter. Peter was _fast. _His hand resumed its position on my thigh after rubbing my arm, which was clasped around his neck. Even though we had dropped, we were moving higher again. The forest was thick. We were in another zone now, which was mostly dominated by pines and conifers. They were so thick I could feel them brushing occasionally along my sides. We were also on a slope, going up, but then he jumped again and we landed on a vertical wall of rock. I screamed and closed my eyes.

His hands left my thighs and he began pulling us up at an alarming rate. When I opened my eyes again, all I could see was granite rock in front of and above me. It wasn't a smooth rock face at all, and I could see an occasional spruce jutting out at the sides. When I looked up, Peter's hands were clawing into the rock. Pebbles and dust gave way to his hands.

He was pure power. I tucked my entire face into his neck, refusing to look anymore.

Just as soon as it had started, it was over. No rushing air, no nothing. My body felt like it was still moving even though I knew we had stopped.

"Bella?" he said quietly.

"What?"

"You can look now."

"Why would I want to do that?"

I could hear heavy breathing and realized it was me. My lips were at his neck, so I even sounded muffled to myself.

He was rubbing my cold wrists, which were locked around his neck. I was hunched up, every muscle in my body locked in place. I wasn't about to move.

"Because this is the closest you'll ever get to heaven, Bella, and I want you to see it." He chuckled. "Look up and out."

I slowly raised my head and opened my eyes.

There were no words that could accurately describe it. To the southwest and through some slight cloud cover I could see Albuquerque and across the Rio Grande. I could see the forest below, set into the canyon. But the most amazing thing I could see was, indeed, heaven.

The sky was brilliant, perfectly clear and vast. There were millions of stars lighting the night sky above us and around us until they faded in the city lights of Albuquerque or by the light of the full moon. But I could see beyond the city, too. The view to the south and to the west was unparalleled.

"Oh, my God."

To the north, I could barely see the stump of an eroded volcano. "What is the volcano called?"

"_Cabezón_," Peter said quietly.

Further in the distance, although the view of the mountains cut it off, you could even see the city lights of Santa Fe lighting up the dark sky. When I turned my head around to look towards the northeast, I could see the top of Sandia Peak through the trees.

"Where are we?"

"We're on one of the pinnacles. I found this place about three years ago. Sometimes I come up here to get out of the city_._ I don't really like all the noise. Do you want to get down? You could stay there all night, if you want. I wouldn't mind." Peter spoke very quietly, but he also sounded a bit nervous.

"Yeah, I'll get down."

My legs were still locked around his hips firmly. I uncrossed my ankles and he held onto my wrists until my feet hit the ground. The moon was full, and it lit up the jagged pinnacle rather well. I could see we were on a very small and smooth edge of rock, large enough to hold two people comfortably but any more than that would be a crowd. Spruces lined the top of the pinnacle to the east and along the ridge line that ran southeast before the drop off on the opposite side. There was one that had fallen, and it was sitting right next to a makeshift fire pit, which sat in a dip of the rock, surrounded by small boulders.

It didn't escape my notice that there was no way off of this thing unless Peter _took_ me off. I walked over to the edge of the cliff. It was almost a hundred feet straight down, and even then the terrain looked treacherous. The northern face was very jagged, with the occasional spruce or fir jutting out. It was definitely a very secluded spot.

I turned around to look at a very stoic Peter.

"Don't get too close to the edge, and watch out for holes. I'm gonna start a fire." He smiled, probably trying to alleviate the concerned look on my face.

All of a sudden, things just felt a little tense.

There was already a small batch of wood sitting by the pit, and I watched Peter meticulously build a small pyre in the ring. He gathered dead needles from the fallen tree and plucked a few twigs here and there before taking the small squeeze bottle of fluid out of his sock and squirting the lighter fluid over the pyre. He took out a lighter and lit a thick patch of the needles.

The flames built up and spread throughout the pyre, and suddenly it wasn't so dark anymore. Orange hues cast Peter's pale face in firelight, reflecting in his eyes as he turned to look at me. It didn't feel that cold- the temperature was probably somewhere in the upper forties- and the air was dry.

Peter stood up straight. He took three steps towards me and gathered me up in his arms.

My heart started pounding when he slid his large hands around my waist. The light danced around the natural golden highlights in his hair. It didn't matter if it was daytime or nighttime, you could look at Peter through a haze and he'd still be the most beautiful thing you'd ever see. But he looked a little withdrawn and pensive. It was in his eyes.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me. His eyes were normal - as normal as they could get. The red glowed subtly and he had a calm look on his face, but still, he seemed tense. His lips were set in a straight line and his jaw was tight. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him closer to me.

He was perfectly still for a moment before he leaned down to kiss me gently. I didn't close my eyes. He deepened the kiss but did not seek entrance, and I felt his arms fall lax around my torso.

He moved his right hand up to palm my cheek, but his touch was off. The _kiss_ was off. There was no intensity whatsoever. I tried to urge him on, I tried to inject some passion into it, but it just wasn't there. He was as calm as could be. I pulled back and looked up at him critically.

His brow furrowed. "What's wrong? You were into it."

"Yeah, but not enough for the both of us. What's the matter? And don't tell me there's nothing wrong. I can feel it."

Peter sighed, defeated. He leaned down once more and kissed me firmly before pulling back and letting go. That one little peck had more feeling in it than that crap he had just laid on me a second before. Peter grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the fallen tree.

"Here, sit down." Peter dropped my hand and kept his back towards me. "You read people well, Bella. Almost too fucking well. And it sucks because you don't know how much it hurts me to know that that might be the last time I get to kiss you. You'd think that I'd know that because I care for you so much, I'd be able make you weak in the knees, and that maybe that would convince you I'm already very attached to you. Maybe then you'd be able to look past my errors and forgive me."

I had already taken a seat against the log by the time he'd said that it might be the last time he'd kiss me. Those words were enough to suck the breath out of me. My stomach dropped away. He was obviously very nervous, maybe even a little afraid.

Dread. All I was feeling was dread. I weighed the rest of his words carefully. Peter didn't sit down next to me. He walked over to the other side of the fire and sat down on a rock that grew out of the pinnacle. He wasn't five feet away, but he was distant nonetheless.

My stomach felt queasy. I was suddenly very cold, even with the fire warming my legs. Saliva was gathering in the back of my throat and I swallowed reflexively a few times, trying to fight off the nausea.

"Um," I swallowed again, "what do you mean? Why do you think it might be the last time I kiss you?"

Peter sat forward on the rock. His elbows were on his knees and his hands were clenched into fists. For a moment I thought he was trembling. The firelight was casting a blanket of orange and red silk over his face. Peter looked ill. He looked how I felt.

It wasn't going to be good. I had a feeling that I had acknowledged my feelings for him too soon. I wanted to run. I wanted to run away and I didn't even know why.

He glanced at me quickly and then looked back at the fire. "It's sad, Bella. We talked about everything else tonight, but _both_ of us managed to skirt around the things we didn't want to talk about. Maybe it's too soon for you, and that's okay, but I lied to you. I flat out lied to you and I can't...I can't _fucking_ stand the thought of lying to you. The guilt is eating me alive and..."

Peter stopped and looked away. His voice was thick with emotion. He was disgusted with himself. You only had to look at his face to see that. He said he'd lied to me, and I was more confused than ever.

Or maybe not.

Maybe I was in denial when I didn't even know what to be in denial about. All I knew was I just wanted him to spit it out. For one, I didn't like seeing him this upset. I didn't like to see him loathing himself, which was clearly what he was doing. But I was also getting pissed because he had lied to me about something. Maybe, just maybe, he was going to fucking ruin it all.

But I couldn't figure out _how_.

"Just…" I cleared my throat and took a breath. I was on the verge of tears and I didn't even know why.

Maybe because this, too, was already over before it had ever really started.

"I would appreciate it a lot if you would just tell me what the hell is going on," I said as calmly as possible.

My fingers were sore. I hadn't realized that I'd been pulling at them. I watched him as I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. He looked at the fire with sorrow, guilt, and regret plastered all over his face and in his eyes.

He cleared his throat and an anguished look crossed his face. Peter looked like _he_ was about to yank his fingers off his hand, too.

He spoke quietly. "You asked earlier what happened when I was changed." He paused. "I spent my first three years as a vampire in Mexico. Northern Mexico, in fact. For centuries now there has been a war going on down there. A blood feud of sorts, but it's not really family-oriented. It's a fight amongst our own species. Down there, there are those of our kind who are power hungry. They fight over the rights to the cities and denser areas of population. They fight for _cattle_ rights in any given territory, so-to-speak. Down there, we don't have to worry much about being discovered. People disappear all the time in Mexico. Thousands, every year. The government thinks nothing of it. They just figure their people are immigrating illegally…or something like that. I guess most of them are."

He shrugged. "Anyways, that's what the fight is about; the fight for the right to feed in a city for those in any given coven. But even the leaders are greedy with their own coven members, and the covens need to stay strong. So, when members of the coven grow weak, they're knocked off because they're not needed anymore."

I swallowed hard and weighed his words carefully. I was more confused than ever. "What do you mean? You mean the leaders kill...members of their own family?"

"Yes. The coven I was in, every year we would dispose of those whose strength had waned. When you're turned, the first few weeks you're a little fucked up. You're insane, pretty much, and you can't control the overwhelming feelings or the instinct you're born with for survival. The thirst can't be controlled, and it takes a while for you to...accept what's happened to you. But when you're a newborn, your strength is incredible. You're much stronger than, say, a hundred year old vampire. And given the proper training on how to fight, you're the most lethal creature of your kind."

I felt like I was going to be sicker. If I threw up that funnel cake, I would resent him because I still couldn't look at spaghetti the same way I used to as a child. I was disgusted and it showed.

"So, you're telling me you killed members of your own coven because they became weak and could no longer fight effectively? Is...is that what you're saying?"

Peter looked at me. His face was hard. "I didn't have a choice, Bella. It was either do it or die myself. I had to prove myself time and again. I had to fight to show I was strong enough to _keep_. Even when we weren't fighting other covens or disposing of newborns, I fought them. Newborns don't get along with one another. And it wasn't my own coven, either. Don't think I don't live with the guilt and regret of being a part of something like that. I _do_."

He looked away from me, disgusted.

"Peter, I didn't mean to sound so callous or judgmental. And I know...I know you're not that person anymore. It's just...God, how do I say this?" I shook my head. I just couldn't grasp it. I just couldn't understand it. "Um, didn't you...didn't you ever consider running away?" My voice was thick. I hadn't meant to offend him, but I obviously had.

Peter's eyes softened with regret. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm sorry."

I nodded my head exaggeratedly. "It's fine. It's okay. Just tell me, though. Why didn't you just leave?"

Peter sighed and looked back into the fire. He was frustrated. "We were watched closely. Believe me, there were those of us who tried. They didn't make it and they died for trying. And the truth is...I didn't want to escape. I'm a good fighter. For three years I fought beside newborns. I was considered an asset and I was looked over whenever Maria, who was our leader, decided to purge. And I grew close to the vampire that made me. He taught me how to fight and he became my friend. He knew that the killing bothered me immensely and that it would only be a matter of time before I did something rash. To myself."

Peter paused. He was staring into the fire distantly.

"He put me in charge of taking care of the newborns. I helped train them. I still had to fight occasionally, especially when we took heavy losses. Maria didn't care too much for the bond my maker and I shared, which is another reason I chose not to try to escape. He might have made me, but he was my friend. My brother, I guess, because that's what he called me. He watched my back and I watched his. But he would have had to kill me if I had tried to escape. Of course, that all changed."

Peter's eyes glazed over and he looked deep in thought. He smiled slightly - at some memory, I suppose.

"Why did it change?"

Peter looked at me with sad eyes, but there was a brightness to them, too. "Maria had gone out to hunt for replacements. We lost four newborns after a fight in Monterrey. Monterrey was supreme territory and we defended it viciously. We were holed up in this little, shitty house on the outskirts of the city. She came back that night after making a run to Texas and plopped a potato sack at my feet. 'Watch this one closely. She's going to be a feisty one,' she had said..."

Peter groaned and grimaced something awful, like it was a painful memory.

"The cunt was right about that. She _was_ feisty. I opened up that bag and the girl was only hours into her change. But she was no girl. Even as a human, she was more woman than Maria could ever hope to be. She had platinum blond hair and deep blue eyes that were full of agony because of the burn, but they were still beautiful. It was Charlotte. They had brought me women before, but her..." He shook his head and smiled.

"Three days later she woke up mad as hell. She was wild, deranged, and the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. She tried to run away, and when I tackled her, she bit the hell out of me. I spent as much time with her as I could...training her, helping her feed, talking to her. I was completely in love with her. And you know what? The idea of living forever didn't seem so bad anymore. It took me some time, though, to win her heart."

He had smiled the entire time he talked about Charlotte. He loved her completely. That much was evident. His voice was thick with emotion, thick with loss, and it showed in his despondent eyes.

"Peter..."

But I didn't know what to say. 'I'm sorry' seemed like so little. He just stared at me, with no emotion other than the grief in his eyes. He looked back down at the fire.

"We kept our relationship a secret. We had to. Maria was a vindictive bitch who believed a newborn's purpose was to serve her and her only. She'd never allow us to..." Peter cleared his throat. "We were all afraid of her. Maria was cunning, extremely intelligent, and not afraid to fight. No one, and I mean no one, had the balls to take her down. Not even..." He didn't finish. Instead, he swallowed again thickly.

"Charlotte was in her thirteenth month. Her strength was waning. There were a few others, too, and Maria gave the order to kill them. There was no way I could let Charlotte die. No way in hell. It meant I'd have to betray them, but mostly it meant I'd have to betray _him_. And it meant I'd have to leave. He and Maria were 'involved'. I wanted to bring him with us, but I knew he would never leave Maria. Not then. He'd been with her for decades and he lived for the fight, even though it was slowly killing him. His existence revolved around Maria and her wishes. She was his maker, and he didn't think there was any other way to exist."

He glanced over at me before looking away. His face seemed to grow harder, almost to the point where it looked like it would crack.

"Charlotte was out with a group, with another vampire by the name of Carlos. He had also survived his first year. I was scared to death. When they got back to camp, my brother and I summoned them outside one by one. I tried to tell him that a few of them were still strong, still capable of fighting hard, but he wouldn't listen. Eight of them were supposed to die and I went about business as usual with the first four. When he called Charlotte outside, we had no choice."

Peter paused and swallowed hard, shaking his head. "She was so scared," he whispered.

I said nothing. I sat and waited while Peter collected himself. Emotions crossed his face so quickly that it was impossible to describe each one. Fear, pain, loss - they were all bad. And he was talking so quickly that it was difficult to keep up. It was obvious he just wanted to get it out.

"He had no idea what was going on. I knocked him on his ass and I told her to run as fast as she could and to not stop. I just bolted after her. I felt his pain. I had chosen her over him, and in that same aspect, death over existence. But a funny thing happened."

"What happened?"

He sighed. "Nothing. Nothing at all. No one followed. We ran a straight path north, and then we went northeast. We were in Ohio before we finally stopped. No one followed, and I knew it was because he hadn't allowed it. He once told me that he was averse to killing me. And that was it. We were free. There was no more fighting, no more needless killing. It was just me and Charlotte for the rest of forever. Or so I thought."

"What did you do? I mean, what happened after that?"

"Well, we were nomads for the most part. We stayed up north, never venturing south of Colorado. We stole what we needed, hunted when we wanted, and we made the most of it."

I was a little taken aback by the thought of Peter killing his own kind because they'd turned weak and been deemed no longer useful by a madwoman. Why not just let them fight until the newborns got themselves killed? But he hadn't had a choice. At least, he hadn't thought he had. Maybe he hadn't.

Maybe since their lives were so expendable, so too was anyone who refused to do their duty, or something like that. There was no way for me to fully know because I had the feeling he'd glossed over the most horrific parts, like the deviousness, especially in that woman named Maria, who'd supposedly killed her own sisters. Peter never talked about the fighting. He never said how he killed them. I could only imagine it was the same as James, or better yet, Victoria.

That was the one I had witnessed, and the terror on her face and her high keening scream when her limbs were being torn away from her body were something I'd never forget.

I felt oddly relieved. But at the same time, I had so many questions. I wanted to know more about Charlotte, and I wanted to know how she died. The more he talked, the more nervous he seemed to get. He threw another piece of wood on the fire and then picked up a longer stick to prod at some of the burning embers. It was a difficult part of his life and he had a lot of trouble talking about it, so maybe that's why he found it necessary to look at everything else but me.

I put some thought into my next words to him before I spoke. I wanted to tell him that it didn't matter, that it didn't change my opinion of him. It had only made me realize that he was indeed capable of being a ruthlessly cold, hard killer, but whose conscience had suffered greatly.

"I fail to see the reason why you think you lied to me, Peter. Knowing where you come from does nothing to change my opinion that you're a good man. We've all..."

Peter interrupted me. "In the spring of 1945, I went back to Monterrey. I never forgot about him. He'd saved my life too many times, Bella. I loved him and I wanted...I wanted to get him out of there. He was just another victim in a war where there would be no winners, and I thought...I thought that if I could convince him that he didn't have to fight anymore, he could come with us. Charlotte and I were the closest people to family he had. Any life away from Maria would be better than none at all. Maria didn't love him. She just wanted him around so he could take care of her dirty work. Maria was in it for the power and the glory. She wanted to be a legend in her own time, but she couldn't have that title unless she had help getting there," he said vindictively and with anger.

Peter paused, but only for a moment. "I left Charlotte in Denver. She was angry with me, but it was just because I wouldn't take her with me. I found their camp on the northern outskirts of Monterrey and I watched them for three days. When Maria took out a few of the newborns to hunt, I walked right into camp. He was there with Carlos and a few others. He told me I'd picked a good day to arrive. His relationship with Maria had been deteriorating and he thought it was only a matter of time before he would have to kill her. He thought for sure she and Carlos were going to kill him, like she had killed her sisters. He was extremely depressed. All of the killing had finally gotten to him and it was easy to convince him that he didn't need to fight anymore. So, he left. With me. Nobody tried to stop us. They knew better. Nobody ever fucked with him."

He laughed briefly, shaking his head. His hands were balled up into fists and he seemed to be struggling with something.

Peter glanced at me with a pained smile before he looked back at the fire. "He stayed with me and Charlotte for a little over three years. We traveled and hunted together, but he became even more depressed. It got to the point where I noticed that every time he hunted, he'd slip away a little bit more. He could feel the human response, the fear...the desperation. He could also feel the toll that his state of mind was taking on me and Charlotte. So he left us. He didn't want to hurt us."

Peter stood up. He was breathing hard and he looked at me with desperation and fear. He was _afraid_. My heart started beating a new rhythm, suddenly afraid because _he_ was.

"When he found me in '36, I was just supposed to be a goddamn meal. He stopped drinking from me because he felt my...acceptance. I wasn't afraid to die. I'd already had plenty of chances at it. It confused him. It scared the hell out of him. You have to understand, I lived my life because there was no way I could take my own. It just wasn't easy for me at all after my family died, and I'd never felt so alone in my whole life. So, I didn't fight it and I didn't fight _him_. I even went so far as telling the bastard to keep going, to finish it. 'Send me to heaven so I can see my family again.' But the son of a bitch wouldn't do it."

Peter just looked at me and waited. It was obvious he was expecting me to say something. I was desperately trying to put it together, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell me. I was scared, confused, and I just couldn't process it all fast enough.

"What…what are you trying to tell me?" I asked shakily.

He scoffed a little and shook his head. "Ask me, Bella. Ask me why I lied to you. Ask me for his _name_."

Something dark stirred in me and I stood up on shaking legs. My mind was in a clusterfucked state, searching through his confusing words, trying to find the answer.

"What's his name?" I asked weakly, giving up.

Peter looked at me with dread.

"I knew him as Jasper Whitlock. You probably knew him as Jasper Hale. Or Cullen," he stated with no emotion.

Jasper.  
…

…

…

That sure as hell never clicked. And Peter sure as hell had given me all the clues.

My blood immediately began to boil. I was on the verge of exploding. He'd lied to me. He'd flat out fucking lied to me. All of a sudden, everything was crystal clear.

"You son of a bitch."

I watched him flinch before I looked away.

Maybe I should have expected it. It only took me a second to think that Peter knew the whole story.

Well, he didn't. Not by a fucking long shot. I turned away from him and began to look for some way to get down without breaking my neck. But I was caught. I was trapped and that motherfucker knew it.

I walked around the entire pinnacle, climbing up a few rocks only to see there was no way down _or_ up. I even had to walk by Peter to get to the other side.

He didn't move, and I didn't look at him.

I was blind, too - blinded by the tears I let fall. The anger had pushed them over the edge and the ache in my chest was fueling the need to lash out in some way.

I turned around and glared at him. I seethed with fury. I was shaking something awful. My eyes were watering so badly that it made it difficult to see his guilty face.

But I saw it, and there was something else there, too. He was wary and waiting; waiting for me to explode, I think. And he was afraid. Afraid of _me_.

I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear my sight. When I looked back at him again, my mind cleared even more. I saw the bigger picture. Peter was afraid and shaking badly, and that look of remorse and guilt was overshadowed by deep-rooted grief and despair. I realized then that he wasn't shaking because of fear.

There was more to the story. Of course there was. The loss was great. He was crying.

It broke my heart and shattered my resolve to lash out at him. He shifted on his feet, and when he brought his eyes back up to look at me, he looked expectant.

I was so angry at him! I wanted to yell and scream and tell him I hated him, but I didn't. I couldn't hate him. And I would regret it later if I said that I did. I needed some space, though. I needed a _whole_ lot of space.

I turned away from him again and I heard him gasp. I started to pace. He remained silent.

I could almost pretend he wasn't even there, standing behind me, although I could feel his eyes on my back. He didn't breathe, he didn't move, and that was probably the best thing he could have done at that point. My mind was a clouded mess, but I was able to gain control of my faculties.

It was minutes later when he finally broke the silence. His words were choked.

"Bella, say something, anything."

"You want to shut the fuck up right now. You think you know everything? You _don't_."

"You're right. I don't. Just tell me..."

"Tell you what?!" I spun to face him. "I don't want to talk about it! Because...because you know what? It really is none of your fucking business. If you think for one fucking moment that I'm going to tell you anything, you're...you're wrong. You know why? Because it doesn't change _anything_. It doesn't change the fact that you outright lied to me. You lied to me, Peter! Why? Why did you lie to me?!"

My voice echoed through the canyon. Yelling was not good.

It didn't stop him from yelling either. "Oh, come on, Bella! Why does _anybody_ lie?! They lie to get what they want! They lie because it's easier than telling the truth! You would have run away from me, just like you were trying to do a few minutes ago, just like you wanna do now. Because it's easier for you to just fucking leave than to face what's happened. And you're wrong. I don't have any fucking clue what happened between you and the Cullens. I haven't talked to Jasper in _years_."

I looked at him with condescending disbelief. "Oh, you think I'm going to believe that?! You give me one, good, goddamn reason why I should! And spare me the lengthy story because you really talk too fucking much."

He flinched like I had slapped him. He was little taken aback. He sort of sneered at me before his face turned regretful. There were so many emotions crossing his face that it was hard to keep track of it all.

He nodded minutely and looked at me with despair and anger. "Okay. I haven't talked to him since 1988. I haven't talk to him because I blamed him for killing my wife."

His words were biting, coated in venom. He looked...furious.

Everything changed in that one moment. My anger, for the most part, was displaced by shock. Peter was seething in his own granite skin. He was breathing heavily and so loudly that I thought he might explode. I was shocked by his statement, and even more shocked because I was suddenly afraid of him. He looked like he was about to come undone. He looked like he was about to break something.

He wasn't lying. I knew that much. I tried to keep the look of horror from showing, but it couldn't be helped. I hadn't expected that.

"What?" I asked quietly. My voice was shaking.

"You heard me. I blamed him for killing my wife," he said with just as much conviction as before.

"J...Jasper killed Charlotte?"

Peter's face changed. He looked remorseful as he looked back down at the fire. He put his hands in his pockets and calmed down immensely.

"Do you wanna hear this or not?" His tone was icy.

I sighed. He obviously was hurt by my words to him about talking too much.

"Just tell me what happened. Did he kill her?" I asked him calmly; but emotion broke through.

He wouldn't look at me. He just stared into the fire. "No, but I still blamed him for it. In September of '87, Charlotte and I headed down to Big Bend. We were in the town of Castolon, Texas to check up on her little sister. The rest of her immediate family had died off over the years. We had checked on them regularly. It was the only way she could be...close to them."

Peter sighed and swallowed back some of the thickness, trying to clear his voice. "We were at the graveyard in Castolon, looking for her sister's grave. She'd died a month before. We heard them coming from the south, but we couldn't smell them. The wind was blowing in from the north, so it was no wonder they tracked us down. Tracked _Charlotte_ down. We'd run into our kind on countless occasions, so we thought it was just a small band of nomads. When we saw them…when we saw _her_, we ran northwest. But it didn't matter. Maria's newborns were quicker and Carlos was a good fighter."

"They caught us on the edge of Boquillas Canyon. I managed to kill two of the newborns, but another four pinned me down on the desert floor. Maria and Carlos went after Charlotte. They had her pinned in no time, but not before she managed to take a chunk out of that cunt."

Peter let out an agonized groan. "Dammit." He swallowed hard. His eyes were closed and he breathed in deeply.

"Maria was seeking revenge because I had taken her mate away from her. She said I took 'everything' away from her. Throughout the years, we'd heard she'd lost her touch. Maybe it was because she'd lost Jasper. She lost Monterrey. I already knew what she was going to do. I saw the idea in her eyes before she even said the words. I had taken _her_ 'mate' away from her, so she and Carlos would take my mate away from me. Death would have been too easy for me, so they ripped my arm off to slow me down and I watched them murder my wife."

I had moved closer to the pit so I was standing directly in front of him. He was looking at me again, gazing at me with grief stricken eyes. I couldn't even begin to comprehend what he was telling me. His full lips were drawn tight.

"Jasper and Alice found me shortly after that. Alice had seen what would occur a little too late. They helped me hunt for Maria for six months and not once did we get close enough. The only thing I wanted was to find her and kill her. It was all I lived for. The hunt was taking its toll on them, and Jasper finally manned up to tell me they couldn't do it anymore. It could have taken years and there was a chance we'd never catch her. He knew this. _Alice_ knew this. But I couldn't give up, Bella. I got angry with him and I attacked him. I had to avenge my mate. I blamed him for taking away my right to die, and I told him my biggest mistake was coming back for him. And I blamed him for Charlotte. It broke his heart."

But it was the truth. Jasper _did_ take his life away from him. He cursed Peter to a never ending existence when he changed him. He'd used Peter just like Maria had used all of them.

I kept my mouth shut.

Peter had lost it all - his mate, his mind, and his best friend. His _maker_. For some reason, it was hard to accept that Jasper Hale was the vampire that made Peter.

Maybe it was because I didn't want to relate Peter to any of the Cullens. And that was perhaps the main reason why I was upset. He knew them, I knew them, and it was another thing we had in common. Something I didn't want to have in common with him at all.

Peter had saved Jasper's life. He'd showed Jasper a different way to live, a different way to exist. Jasper just finally took it upon himself to seek out a way he _could_ exist without war, without killing. I suddenly understood it all at that moment. Somewhere and somehow, he'd found Alice. Or Alice had found him.

But I didn't care. Not about them.

I found myself no longer angry. Not at Peter, anyway. "So, what, they just left you?"

Peter shook his head. "Not really. I pretty much ended our relationship. Jasper told me I was family and that he wanted me to come home with them. He said that even if I managed to kill her, it wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't bring Charlotte back. I told him it was his fault that she was dead. If I had never gone back for him, she never would have died. I told him he could go rot in hell for all I cared. _My_ family was Charlotte. I would never give up. And that was the last time I saw him, the last time I spoke with him. I swear."

I sighed, but I was not relieved by any means. "Did you find her? Did you kill Maria?"

"No. Two months later I kind of realized that Jasper was right, but not before I slaughtered an entire family of four. Only then did I realize I had become my own worst enemy. I literally fell into a hole, deep in the earth, and...and I had an epiphany. I grieved for my wife. I knew that...that if heaven existed, she would always be with me somehow. She'd be angry with me for just giving up, for just...becoming the very thing we'd escaped from. For being a monster. Especially when we have hearts…and souls…and care for one another."

The fire had burned down. The orange glow was fading. I watched a blue flame lick its way across the bottom of the pit, trying to find a way to sustain itself. I had my arms crossed over my chest and I kicked at a rock in the pit that had shifted away because of a loose piece of wood.

Peter walked over the pit and stood directly in front of me, close enough to touch. His sorrowful gaze was soft. So were his words.

"Bella, my wife was a believer in God. She always believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel, that there was a reason for everything we are forced to endure; whether it was to test our faith, teach us a lesson, or even separate the good from the evil. There is a reason for everything, and maybe...maybe there is a reason I met _you_."

I looked at him sharply. "Or maybe it's just a small fucking world. You lied to me, Peter. What's worse, though, is that you fed it with bullshit."

He nodded minutely and swallowed thickly. "I know. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me..."

"That's good. Because I won't. I'm too angry and I'm little fucking hurt. No, not a little. A lot. I trusted you, but I... Peter!"

I saw his face fall first before the rest of him caved in. He had sunk to his knees and I fell to mine. His eyes were closed and he looked like I had just crushed his heart and ripped it out of his chest.

It was a look I used to see quite often. _Too_ often. I used to stare at it in the mirror every day.

"Peter." I put my hands on his face and tried to lift his head. He was frozen. He was a statue and his head wouldn't budge an inch. He wasn't even breathing.

"Peter. Peter, please. Look at me."

He opened his eyes and I was shocked to see they had welled up with venom. "You didn't let me finish." I shook my head and I even laughed short. I mean, my God. He was really overreacting. Wasn't he?

Maybe his heart was invested in this, too.

In _me_.

Goddamn. It was time to tell him. It was time to tell him who really was the weak one.

"I trusted you. I _still_ do. And I understand why you lied because you're right - I would have walked away…or run away...immediately. Because...because that's what I did. I ran away from Forks. I ran away from my past," I said softly. I smiled at him to try to reassure him. And I tried to keep my tears at bay, but I failed.

He didn't say anything, but at least he was looking at me.

I could do this. I could do this and get through most of it without letting the pain of it all show through. Pain that indeed was still there. The only thing that was hurting me at that point though was his broken face. He'd been broken one too many times, but he'd still managed to pull himself together. He'd _always_ managed to pull himself together, whether as a boy or as a man who'd made some mistakes.

He'd made a mistake and he'd lied. But that was okay. It was _okay_.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself. "When I moved to Forks, I met Edward Cullen. Through a series of unfortunate events...mainly for myself...I discovered what he was and I fell in love with him, irrevocably and unconditionally. He was the first man I ever loved. It was the same for him, to an extent."

Peter shifted around, grabbed another piece of wood, and threw it on the fire. He slid over to the fallen log, but not before grabbing a hold of my waist. I sat sideways on his lap while he rubbed furiously at my hands. I hadn't realized that they were cold.

He stared at them. I think he knew I needed some eye space, for the time being.

He spoke quietly. "We met him the first time at Alice and Jasper's wedding. They lived up in Manitoba then. I was Jasper's best man. Carlisle married them and Emmett gave the bride away. Edward played the piano. Rosalie was Alice's maid of honor."

"Okay, that doesn't help." I gave him a condescending look.

"Sorry. I'm just telling you that I knew them all well enough. You should know that."

I sighed. "It's fine. But I can only do this one way right now. The quicker, the better."

"I understand." And he did. I could see it in his eyes.

I took a deep breath. "The day after we 'declared' ourselves to one another, I watched him and his family play baseball. To make a long story short, three nomads showed up in the clearing. James, Victoria, and Laurent. James was a tracker. There was a confrontation, and to make a longer story short, I went on the run to escape certain death. Jasper and Alice took me to Phoenix in the hopes to trick James. It didn't work. He ended up tricking _me_ into believing that he had my mom. I ran away from Alice and Jasper at the airport when we were waiting for Edward's flight to come in. Edward got to the ballet studio in time to save me, which was where James was supposedly keeping my mom, but not before James bit me. That's where I got the scar."

Peter sighed long and hard. "Edward sucked the venom out?"

"Yes, he did. It was a miracle in itself because my blood was…um, very attractive to Edward. To him, I was Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings and pumpkin pie for dessert. Does that make sense?"

Peter smiled somewhat. "Your scent drove him mad with blood lust."

"Yeah, and Edward was into masochism when it came to me, so every day was a constant struggle for him. Anyways, James had beaten me up all to hell. He broke my leg, a few ribs, and...well, the Cullens provided the cover story for my parents. It took me a while to recover. After that, things quieted down for the rest of the school year and the following summer. My relationship with Edward grew stronger, but in September, on my eighteenth birthday, everything changed for the worse."

Peter just stared at me, waiting. "Alice insisted on a birthday party, and when I was opening a gift, I gave myself a paper cut. Jasper...Jasper tried to kill me. He got close. _Really_ close. It wasn't his fault, though. I didn't blame him at all. I'm sure you know how he struggled. I ended up getting thrown into a table by Edward, where I cut my arm. That was when I lost the love of my life, even though I didn't know it at the time. Within three days, the Cullens left Forks and Edward and I were over."

I sighed. "What you need to understand is...I was willing to give it all up for him. I wanted to be with him forever. I was willing to give up my family, everything. But changing me was never an option with Edward because he thought he was cursed. He thought he was soulless, and he didn't want to take my soul away from _me_. For a long time, I thought I wasn't good enough for him. Actually, throughout my relationship with Edward, I believed I was...insufficient, that I wasn't good enough for him, and the words he used when he left didn't help matters."

There was no way I could tell him what had been said because it _still_ hurt, even if it wasn't the truth.

Peter sighed. He didn't look happy at all. "You know now that's not true, don't you? Nobody's perfect, Bella. Not even Edward. I didn't know him _that_ well, but I could very well see him as the type of man who would sacrifice his own happiness to protect the one he loves."

"You're right. He is. And in so many words, he told me that. But I also think that maybe...maybe if he had loved me enough, he would have been selfish enough to keep me forever. He would have thrown caution to the wind and stayed with me instead of expecting me to pretend he didn't exist at all. I mean, for Christ's sake, he didn't even let me say goodbye to Alice. And that...that..."

I lost control. I lost the ability to speak anymore. Who was I trying to kid? I guess the upside of the whole thing was once again I was in Peter's arms. The downside, though, was that I had half expected to be talking about Jake when I truly lost it. Not Alice.

But maybe that was the most difficult part of it all; losing Alice and losing Jake. I had lost both of the people I considered to be my best friends, and only one of them was because of a choice _I_ had made.

I still harbored too much resentment with Jake and I didn't see that changing any time soon, if at all. Not only that, but I was scared about what Peter would think when he found out that I'd had two failed relationships with two mythological creatures, one of whom was an enemy.

Peter held me tightly. He stroked my hair, rubbed my back, and kissed my temple lightly - like a close friend would do, not just a lover. I needed both.

He sighed long and hard before he finally spoke.

"You don't need to say anything else.. Even if you can't talk about it ever again, it'll always be enough. I'm so sorry I lied to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. But I had to tell you. I had to tell because I'm falling in love with you." Peter whispered the last part in my ear before kissing it lightly.

Well, didn't we just have a lot in common.

Somehow I wasn't surprised. Okay, I was, but only because he'd just outright said it. I pulled back to look at him in shock even though his reaction to my misinterpreted words from before was all the proof I really needed.

I didn't know what to say. I sure as hell couldn't say _that_. There was no doubt that I felt the same way. But it was too soon.

Peter grasped my head in between the palms of his hands. His eyes were burning with intensity. "I don't expect you to say anything, so don't. I only said it because it's the truth. I owe you that."

I looked at him seriously. "Don't ever lie to me."

"I won't," he said vehemently. I believed him.

"I forgive you."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He smiled painfully and pulled me in to embrace me again. He didn't let go.

And I couldn't let go of him. He was just so beautiful and just too broken. All I wanted to do was take his pain away and make him happy.

_I'm in love with you._

My face was pressed against his left shoulder and Peter rubbed the length of my spine. I was close to his neck and I saw one lone crescent mark right where his carotid would have been. I kissed it lightly.

"Oh…do that again," he whispered.

I giggled silently and kissed his neck again. This time I let my lips linger and I opened them. I licked the full length of his scar from top to bottom, over and over again. I felt that familiar vibration again, first in my chest. Peter was _purring_. I really, really liked that.

"You know, you're starting something here. Are you sure you wanna do that?" he asked somewhat breathlessly.

"Uh huh. Besides, you need to redeem yourself. Frankly, that last kiss you laid on me sucked," I whispered against his skin, vehemently. I didn't know why we were whispering. There was no one around. The only thing to be heard was Peter's breathing and the fire popping and crackling.

Peter pulled my head up to look at him. "Well, I can't have you thinking about that shit anymore, can I?"

He pressed his lips against mine and kissed me softly with parted lips and exaggerated slowness. It was _so_ much better. It was slow, and each movement was appreciated. It was perfect.

"That...is...much, much...better."

"I'm glad...you...think...so. But...I'm just...getting started."

"Oh!"

I was suddenly lying on the flat surface of the pinnacle floor, next to the fire pit. Peter hovered over me and lay my head gently down. He was straddling my hips and he resumed kissing me, placing the palms of his hands by the sides of my head. I was still catching up from my momentary dizzy spell.

"You okay?" he whispered against my lips. His breath made me shudder in a wonderful way.

"Yeah, just don't mess with my equilibrium too much. I am human, you know." He started trailing kisses down my jaw line.

"Bella?"

"Hmm?"

He pulled back to look at me with hooded eyes and a dark intensity. "I'm sorry I cried on you. I'm not a pansy ass." Peter made a face.

"I would never think such a thing. I find your ability to display deep emotion over the ones you care about to be an endearing quality," I told him honestly.

The way he hovered over me and the strength and love behind his kisses told me he was _no_ pansy. I knew he was a fighter, a warrior of sorts, and he had survived through only half-spoken atrocities. There was nothing pansy about that, nothing pansy about having a heart.

"Thank you."

His lips came down on mine hungrily. I ran my hands down his chest and pulled up his shirt to find his perfectly toned abdomen. It clenched involuntarily when I touched him. He shifted closer so I could touch more of him.

My heart began to beat quickly. It was a _strong_ beat. I felt it in my chest and I heard it in my ears, along with the purr and occasional growl I was able to elicit from him.

He was the perfect predator; and he was on the hunt. The hunt to explore my body.

Peter was supporting his weight with his knees and left elbow. His right hand had drifted down to my waist. He lifted up the poncho, put his hand on my hip, and moved up my side slowly. I had _way_ too many clothes on. I couldn't move my left hand anymore because he was pulling my shirt free from my jeans. But he stayed outside of my clothing. I pulled it out of his shirt to feel his back, to grasp his shoulder, and to run my fingers through his soft hair.

When he sought entrance to my mouth, I gave it to him. It was a kiss full of unbridled passion yet gentle at the same time. He kissed me long and deep; stroking the inside of my mouth. The love I felt behind that kiss stirred something deep inside me, something that pulled at my heart so strongly that it felt like I was physically attached to him. It felt like nothing could separate us.

That first kiss had nothing on this. The pace might have been more controlled, but in no way did it lack intensity. It was both heaven and pure hell all at the same time because I wanted to feel those lips and that tongue all over my body.

And he was wrong. My imagination could never _create_ the taste of him. He tasted like a Dreamsicle, creamy with a hint of oranges and something…floral. I swore I could smell flowers on his breath.

Peter slid his hand up to touch my breast. I moaned at the contact as his thumb brushed over my nipple. His hand kept moving up and he grabbed a hold of the necks of the poncho and my hoodie, stretching them out as he caressed the roof of my mouth one more time. He left my mouth and lightly kissed a trail of heat down my chin and along my jaw.

The cool air did nothing to cool me down. I was hot, and a dull ache made itself known in my loins. It didn't escape my notice that this was the perfect place and the perfect time. The stars lit up the sky.

He moved up my jaw as he squeezed and pushed on the flesh of my breast. The sounds he made; the growls, the purrs; were something else, and they only intensified the passion he was eliciting from me. It was a little bit terrifying but highly erotic.

He gently sucked on my ear lobe and moved down to my neck where he licked a path right over my jugular.

He started to suck where my pulse throbbed, but he moved up a little, and then a little bit more, moving around as if to not mark me. I didn't care; he could have marked me and I wouldn't have given a shit at all. He moved his lips back down to my pulse point, and then he let out the deepest, reverberating growl of pure desire against my skin. I shuddered from head to toe.

Maybe it was desire for my blood, maybe it was for my body. He could have both.

I was slightly afraid, but that was because I hadn't been touched for a long while. Not like that. He moved his other hand away from my breast and brought it up to my neck. His thumb pressed hard into the conclave of my collar bones. The pressure he was applying to my neck with his lips and hand was making it hard to breathe. He _was_ marking me, sucking fiercely on my neck, but not hard enough to break the skin.

Who the fuck needed air? I didn't. And I was already his.

Peter removed his thumb from my collar bone and worked his arm underneath my head. I felt his leg nudging my knees apart and he slipped his thigh in between them. He lowered himself on top of me gently. I moaned when I felt the weight of his thigh press against my core. His hand came back to my breast this time, groping me through the poncho, and a certain presence made itself known against my thigh and my hip.

"Oh, God," I breathed out. Every last bit of air left me.

Peter pulled away from the assault on my neck and said five words I wasn't prepared to hear.

"Spend the night with me."

I started panting; trying to catch some much needed breath. The air was cold and I couldn't get enough of it. I heard his voice, I understood his words, but still, I had to ask.

"What? Why?"

Peter undulated his hips so I could feel his meaning. He was assaulting my neck again, but he breathed out a chuckle against my skin.

He whispered, his voice thick and deep with lust. "Because I want you. I want you, Bella. _Now. _I want you in my bed. I want to make love to you and look into your eyes when I come inside you. I want to eat you alive. I want to fuck you until you scream. I want to hold you and watch you sleep, and cook you breakfast in the morning. Spend the night with me. Say yes." He rubbed against me and groaned.

Peter went back to my neck, pulling the skin over my jugular into his mouth and sucking firmly. I felt the dam between my legs give out, and I wanted to bet his thigh would be wet.

No one had ever said anything like that to me before. I liked it. I _loved_ it. Eat me alive? I knew he didn't mean literally, he was planning on cooking me breakfast.

I couldn't think fast enough, for a few reasons. One, he was talking about sex. Sex with a vampire was something I didn't think could happen. Two, he was asking me to spend the night.

I needed to think about it. I needed to stall. I didn't know what to say. I knew what my body wanted, but I couldn't let it think for me.

There was only one thing that came to mind.

"But, I thought...oh, God...I thought you didn't put out on the first date?"

Peter stopped sucking on my neck and raised his head slowly. His eyes were blacker than the night. He looked hungry, and there was nothing but love and desire in his dark eyes. He shrugged.

"I lied."

**AN: Thanks for reading.**


	10. Chapter 9 Abberations of Nature

Chapter 9. Aberrations of Nature.

**AN: Thanks for reading.**

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***P*E*T*E*R***

"_You know what? I hate you. I wish I never met Edward. I wish I never met any of them. And I wish to God I never met you. What is it, is it some sick, fucking twisted game you all like to play? Let's see how many different ways we can break her fucking heart? Is that what this is? Y...You tell me Peter. Tell me! Tell me why I shouldn't wish why I never met you. Goddamn it! You, of all people! Why did you do this to me?!_

"_Because I'm not like him. I'm not like any of them. I didn't want to hurt you, but I couldn't tell you the truth because I'd thought I'd lose you. And I can't lose you, Bella. I can't lose you now." _

"_I've never been yours to lose. Take me home."_

"Are you alright?"

I looked down at her face and brushed her lips with my thumb. She was looking up at me with half-lidded eyes filled with concern.

"Yes, I'm more than alright. We'll be home in ten minutes. Close your eyes, Bella."

I was taking her home. But I wasn't taking her to the one that was just hers. It was strange. It all felt so foreign, and that made it scary as hell. It was unknown territory for me. But we were together, and that was all that mattered. That's the only thing that made it alright.

That known future, that future that I lived my life by for the last nineteen years, was still fresh in my mind.

I should have been in my truck on the way back to her house telling her the rest of my story, all of it. My history with Charlotte, and what happened with Jasper. But the future changed again up on that mountain; and I didn't know what to make of it.

The thought of that was now was really doing a number on me, because she had no choice but to listen. Just like I gave her no way out on that pinnacle, She would have had to sit in the seat next to me and I would have forced Bella into listening to me as we drove back to her house.

We would have sat in front of her house in my truck talking about my childhood and my life in Texas. That's when I would have told her about my family, and that's when she would have told me about Renee and Charlie.

But that was yesterday, and everything was just completely fucked.

Well, not _completely_.

I would have managed to win back some of her trust, I would have managed to make her understand why I had lied. It didn't make it right, all it did was make her understand why I felt the need to lie to her.

I would have walked her to her door, and kissed her goodnight. At that, it would have been just a simple kiss; nothing passionate at all. And it wouldn't have led to more. Pretty goddamn disappointing compared to what I had experienced so far.

I was far from complaining, but internally freaking the fuck out. The future had changed again, and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why or how.

Tonight was supposed to be the first time we spent any length of time together. She would have called the next day and we would have made plans to go out a week from Monday to the orchard. But in a way, it was so much better. It was everything it should have been and more. As scared as I was that the future had changed, I couldn't really complain about it. She was coming home with me.

We were going to make love. Needless to say, I had been looking forward to this moment for almost _her_ entire life. And while it was certainly a large step for Bella to take because she was not one for casual sex, it had more meaning for me. I did not consider it 'casual', by no means. But I guess she didn't either.

It had been over twenty one years since I had been with a woman. I was going to make love to Bella. There were no words that could accurately describe everything that meant to me. It was both a terrifying prospect and one I would hold to memory for the rest of my unnatural life.

And it would be wonderful. Maybe.

Dreaming it and living it were two different things. I could remember easily the beauty of it, but feeling it was a completely different matter. The coil in my belly wasn't just because I'd been sporting a hard on for the last forty five minutes. It was also holding me together, because I was sure when I felt her, I would fall apart. It wasn't just her body, it was _Bella_.

With breasts. With soft and warm skin that burned with a lustful fever. With firm and strong legs that would wrap around my hips and hold me to her. With small hands that would grip my arms yet be completely delicate. With brown eyes and full lips, puffed up because they had kissed me so much already.

How was I supposed to be with her, and not cry?

She was no longer being handed to me on a silver platter. The future was now unknown. I was psychologically breaking down with lust and love raging through my mind. Jasper could have a whole lot of fun with my head.

But it all just felt so right; in the same aspect. I was taking her home to _our_ home. To hopefully make love in a bed that would soak up her scent and a bed that _I_ could watch her sleep in as I laid next to her.

And _I _was going to get laid. She was going to be mine.

I would pity the motherfucker who ever unintentionally touched her ass by accident again. I would pity the motherfucker that just looked at her wrong and wouldn't say please when he ordered his fucking drink. I wanted to mark her and show her off to every guy that ever looked at her twice and I wanted to say, 'You see this? She's mine. If you touch her, if you hurt her, I'll pull your goddamn heart out of your chest and lick the blood off the goddamn thing while you're still alive to watch.'

I could afford to be a little possessive now.

Back on the pinnacle, I stroked the pale and smooth skin underneath the delicate arch of her jaw with my fingers, waiting for her answer when I asked her to come home with me. Even with frigid hands, the heat coming off of her was nothing I had ever experienced. I wanted to be sheathed inside her hot depths, because I was a selfish bastard that didn't want to wait any longer. I wanted her, I wanted her body and I wanted her nails on my back, caressing my skin, trying to find purchase. I wanted her warm little tongue in my mouth, and I wanted her hips rocking under mine. I wanted to possess her just like she's possessed me all these years.

I wanted it all.

The future had changed. Our entire relationship was progressing at a wonderfully alarming rate, and I wanted all of her. There was just one small problem. One that I hope didn't rear it's ugly head until we got well on our way home. Not that he was ugly. But coming in my jeans would be.

I was suffering from a little bit of performance anxiety. I had only been with one woman and I hadn't been with_ her_ for years. I was more than a little nervous. It might have been a normal reaction for me to have, but it was just a little bit disconcerting especially after being boisterous with Bella about all the things I wanted to do to her.

When she told me yes, I think a very, very, small part of me was hoping she would have said no. Sex was a big, fucking step.

"_I lied."_

"_You really are a lying bastard. You know that?" _

"_I am a lying bastard, and I've lied to get what I want. What do I want, Bella? Tell me."_

I had emphasized my point my reaching underneath her ass and tucked her closer while grinding into her center even more. She had let out the most throatiest groan ever, and arched into me.

"_You want..me."_

"_Don't think about it, just come home with me. Make love with me. Say yes." _

Her lips were parted, breathing in the cool night air. I pushed into once more and I watched her eyes roll back inside her head.

"_Take me home." _

That had given me some pause, because in the known future those were the same three words she uttered, and the confusion at her statement must have shown on my face. She had managed though to quickly erase the confusion and panic that started to show itself.

She lunged up, capturing my lips with hers, and that was all it took for me to understand.

I had her back to the truck in nine seconds flat. Which was a huge fucking mistake on my part. _Huge._ At least that's what I thought when we reached the parking lot, and she yelled at me to find her a bathroom.

I had ran her back to the truck, through the trees that evening dew had settled on. By the time we came out into the grasslands, the legs on her jeans and her shoes and socks were soaked. I took her to the first bathroom I could find. A port-a-potty. The foulest thing on the face of the earth. She wobbled in the nine second ride back to the parking lot nearly scared the piss right out of her. She staggered out looking like she need to throw up.

She wasn't mad, but she said she had a case of head rush. I had her lay down in the front seat to rest while I drove us home.

At one point, I began to think that making love to her would be a bad idea. She went through some emotional shit, not to mention she pretty much had been jostled around quite a lot. I might have been looking for a reason to hold off, but I also wanted it. I _needed_ it. I needed her.

As the first few minutes of the drive ticked by, the brain in my dick took over, and I was pretty much driving _both_ of us insane. Her breaths were long and deep, and her heart pounded on the walls of her chest cavity. Her head rested against my thigh, as she sprawled out on the front seat. She was flat on her back, her legs bent at the knees.

The lights from the dashboard made her face glow, and she was beautiful.

I had taken her shoes and socks off for her when I put her in the truck and turned the heat on. She was curling her toes now out of nervousness.

I worked my free hand through her hair, running my fingers across the silky skin of her face and her swelled lips.

She had taken off both the poncho and her hoodie, and I was running my hand all over her neck; and down her chest. Down between the swells of her breasts, occasionally sliding my hand over to her breasts; and cupping them in my palm.

My lips would kiss them.

The little feminine sighs and moans she let out were slowly torturing me to the point where pulling out my dick and giving it a good jerk seemed like a very good idea. I thought about pulling over, telling her I need to check a tire or something; because I was sure to come immediately when I slipped inside her. I was sure of it.

If she was worried about how fast I was driving, she wasn't showing it. I was pushing eighty five and we had about fifteen, twenty minutes left to drive. We had only left Albuquerque twenty minutes before, traffic was light even though it was only around eleven at night.

It was best not to talk; because talking killed the mood, so I did very little of it. So did she.

Words weren't needed. We were both nervous, and both in need of a little quiet time in order to accept and think about what we were about to do. I'm sure she still had her reservations about sleeping with me so soon, but I also thought she figured out a long time ago that you just couldn't follow the same protocol or hold the same values when your associating romantically with the dead. We just weren't that fucking patient. At least I wasn't. And even though I was nervous, I was far from being prude about it.

It was obvious too, that there would be no going back. She would not be changing her mind. She needed this just as much as I needed it. But if she did, I would have still tried to convince her to stay the night, just so I could hold her while she slept and cook her breakfast when she woke up. I always wanted to do both. Always.

Sex wasn't everything, but it was one hell of a relationship booster. I needed both, and only with her.

She sighed loudly and I looked down. Her delicate little eyebrows were furrowed in confusion or worry, and she was frowning.

"What are you thinking about?"

Her lips lifted into a little grin, and I watched her lick them with her tongue. She breathed out.

"Music."

_Okay._

"Do you want me to put something on?"

"No, I'm just thinking. Be quiet," she scolded quietly. Her fingers traced imaginary patterns on the top of my hand as it rested against her neck.

I didn't say anything else. It was bad enough she had told me that I talked too fucking much, and that shit was just mean. Plus I was bound and determined not to fuck up anymore.

I no longer had her figured out. Hell, I didn't even have myself figured out anymore, which really didn't help matters.

I broke down like a fucking sissy; a complete fucking Nancy, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. I had succumb to the panic, to the thought of losing her. I was dreading her reaction to the truth about Jasper, and I was afraid of Bella.

Her gaze alone was capable of burning a hole right into my very soul, and that was when she was _happy_. Pissing her off seemed to break me down into a large puddle of primordial goo.

I had thought I was going to lose Bella. I was dismayed at the intensity of the self-destruction I felt, because I really did feel like I was crumbling to pieces. For a moment, I wanted to die.

The lie was a cancer, the regret and guilt growing because I was withholding the truth. _I_ could never hurt Bella; but the truth was going to hurt her no matter what.

Honesty always wasn't the best thing.

Goddamn, there were so many lies, so many truths for her to yet discover. She already knew I was capable of it; but she had no idea who I was to her. To Bella, my entire presence in her life would be a lie. All the lies, they were all for gaining her love. But lies were what they were; even if they were attached to something as beautiful as a miracle.

_I Hate You._

Those three little words were something I never wanted to hear her utter, especially not to me. I had dreaded it for nineteen years. There was no doubt that she saw how the weight of the lies about Jasper tortured me. She had given it consideration. She had thought about it, and the future changed again.

I uttered those three same words twenty one years ago. And at that time, I had meant it. But the fact was I missed Jasper. Still loved him, in fact. But I had done enough damage and so did he.

The future had changed; and I was a fool to think I could put it back on course. Bella was already in love with me. And though she didn't say it, I knew she was. It wouldn't matter how long it took for her to say it, to admit it out loud for herself. I already knew it, and I could feel it. That was enough for me.

It was the best feeling I had ever had.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

Crazy is as crazy does, and I threw sanity out the window years ago.

But I experienced plenty of sane moments with Peter. So I knew I wasn't completely out of my mind in telling him yes. Yes I would go home with you. Yes I wanted to make love with you. I needed it, and I needed him.

I was hopelessly in love with him. And falling in love with someone so quickly was something I swore I would never let myself do again. Especially not with a vampire. I was insane.

And sanity would mean I wouldn't be hearing and feeling the most beautiful feeling coming from such a simple thing as Peter's touch, yet that's exactly what I felt. And heard. So maybe I was insane. Who the fuck cared? I didn't.

There was no way to really describe it, and the only thing I could conclude was Peter's body was singing to me. He was calling me, silently without words, and without notes. The hum I heard in my ears and felt throughout my body was completely unexplainable. But the more he touched me the more I could hear different tones and pitches inside my ears.

When he touched me, it was like his hand was pulling every molecule and cell out of my body and up into his hand.

The sensation was amazing. The hot trails he left over my face and down my chest, spread throughout my body; exciting me, and turning me to goo. It felt like he was stroking the inside of my skin.

It was comforting, and the effect I felt was drug-like. It was the most beautiful combination of heightened desire and stimulated relaxation experienced all at once. Or like having an orgasm and falling asleep immediately afterward. It was just all so intense.

Which sleeping wasn't a fucking option, because I really wanted to know if it would be the same once he was inside me, and that's where I wanted him.

I told him to take me home. To his home. The feelings I was having I discovered after our trip down the mountain, and at first I thought it was the residual effects of the run down.

It had been cold and wet. He had been going so much faster than before, that I hadn't even had time to prepare my bladder.

I couldn't be angry with him, it was very obvious he was extremely excited and nervous himself. He hadn't even bothered to throw me on his back, he cradled me to his chest and tucked my head into the crook of his arm.

I had an overwhelming sense of déjà vu on the trip down, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming at me from. A dream maybe, or maybe a past experience with Alice or Edward. My subconscious was trying to place it with something, but I had no idea what.

The humming in my ears wouldn't stop. It just kept building with every caress, until it was just an effect I figured out I was experiencing from his touch. I was laying across the front seat, a bump in the middle of the seat where the console usually sat made my back a little uncomfortable. The seat belt buckle was lodged into my ass, but I was in _heaven_.

The only thing I wanted was his hand to travel lower, because the sinful ache between my legs was increasing with every caress down my chest.

I looked up at him. The blue glow from the dashboard illuminated his face beautifully in the dark. He was neither smiling nor frowning. Seriousness graced the features of his square and chiseled jaw; his full lips and his broad forehead. In the darkness, I could see his eyes still shined with black depth. It didn't escape my notice that he was deep in thought. He was nervous, too.

Intimacy was still in a way foreign to me. I had only slept with Jake, so it wasn't like I didn't know what to expect, or how to pleasure a man. But Peter wasn't an ordinary man, and I was worried that I possibly I couldn't please him when it came to making love. Plus I would have been a fool not to admit to myself that I was a little concerned about what kind of power and strength he was capable of wielding in the throws of ecstasy.

I was also a little excited about that notion, too.

I stared at him for what felt like minutes before Peter finally looked down at me. He smiled while brushing his thumb across my lips. The truck was slowing down, taking an exit off the interstate, and coming to a stop.

The red glow filtering in through the windshield told me we were at a stoplight.

"Where are we?"

"We're on the southeast side of Santa Fe, off the exit ramp for Old Las Vegas."

Just then I heard another car pull up to the light to the right of Peter's truck. It wasn't so much that I heard the car, what I heard was the bass pumping and the synthesizer beat of music. Lady Ga Ga; and the song Love Game. The frame of the car or whatever it was next to us was vibrating so badly it was almost to the point you could swear the bolts were coming undone.

Peter was looking out the side window.

_'Let's have some fun this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick-don't think too much just bust that kick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick.'_

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ."

Peter was shaking his head in disgust while I was losing it. He made a right turn. I reached up and cupped his cheek, while he smiled and chuckled in response to my laughter.

"I _really_ can't stand that shit." He said quietly.

"I can tell. Where do you live, anyway?" He resumed caressing my neck, swiping his hand down my breastbone. I had a hard time catching my breath to talk.

"Just a little northeast of the village in Canada De Los Alamos. You know where that's at?"

"You live up there?"

That was mountain territory, close to the Sangre De Christo Range in Santa Fe National Forest. It wasn't surprising, I couldn't see Peter living in the suburbs.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. His voice sounded thick. "My place sits on a small ridge, so the view's great. I own ten acres surrounding the house. I'll show you around tomorrow. "How um..are you feeling? Do you feel better?" He looked down at me intently, and a little concerned.

"I'm just fine, I have been for awhile now."

A small grin threatened to cross his lips. "Good."

Peter's eyes flickered back and forth between the road and the path his hand was taking. He moved down my chest, and then moved over my heart, massaging and cupping my breast.

The hum got more intense, to the point where the sensation felt like a vibration running throughout my skin and bones. I struggled for breath as his hand kept exploring; watching his eyes flicker back and forth between the road and where his hand traveled. Cool fingers splayed out caressed my abdomen, and he wasn't stopping there.

He didn't move his hand back up, and he looked into my eyes as his hand continued down. Over the button of my jeans, past my lower abdomen, cupping and rubbing my mound.

The sound that came out of me sounded strangled. A moan that would only get more pronounced. I watched him melt and let out his own groan. It sounded almost agonizing. 

"Jesus Christ, Bella. Your smell. You smell so _good_." He drawled out, his voice vibrating. His hand was moving back up to my stomach, to my breasts...

"God, Peter. Don't stop."

"I'm not."

"Drive faster."

"I can't. I'm all ready pushing it. And your not wearing your fucking seat belt." He said shakily.

"Hurry."

"I _am_."

My shirt was riding up with every touch, every rub along my torso. When his hand came into contact with my skin, he left burning trails across my stomach. I noticed his hand was starting to shake just ever so slightly, especially when his fingers dipped underneath the waistband of my jeans.

I imagined his hands all over my body, groping the flesh of my breasts and teasing my nipples with his fingers. I was aching for him all over. I imagined his fingers stroking me, teasing me. I wanted to know just exactly what those hands of his could do.

I lost all track of time as his caresses grew more frantic, the only thing I could tell was we were heading up in elevation and the road was quite curvy. After awhile, the road changed and we were driving on gravel. I opened my eyes and looked out the passenger window to a line of Ponderosa pines on the edge of the road.

He slowed only somewhat and made a sharp turn left, finally coming to a stop. I would have flown forward hadn't been for his arm holding me down.

"We're _home_," Peter said, relieved. He helped me sit up. I looked briefly out the window while moving over to the door. It was dark but the moon was out, and high in the sky.

Peter had parked outside of his garage on the west side of the front of his home. It looked like an architectural dream house from the outside, heavily surrounded by trees. The curving patterns told me it was an adobe along with intricate bricking, but I couldn't see that well in the dark was the color scheme was.

Not only that, but because Peter had my door opened in a flash looking wild and little bit deranged. He grabbed me underneath my arms and pulled me forward. His lips crashed down to mine moving frantically and passionately. His taste quickly overtook me, and the hum I heard was so loud, it drowned out my heartbeat. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he picked me up, kicking the door of the truck shut with his foot.

He walked at a human pace, although rather quickly down a sidewalk of sorts. He fumbled with the key as he unlocked the door, and I heard the dull steps of his feet on a bare floor as the door swung shut loudly. He stepped down once, and walk into a room with another bare floor.

His kiss continued to consume me, his tongue working wonders inside my mouth. My blood was boiling and I was growing wetter by the second. I was already desperate for the need to feel him inside me.

He walked us down a hallway, and into a room.

He broke away long enough to lift my tank top over my head in one fluid motion with one hand; supporting my backside as I let go to raised my arms up. My legs were wrapped around his waist. When I braced myself around his neck and arm again with my hands, he pried my legs away; and I sunk down to the floor.

Peter broke away from my lips, and turned me around quickly. He pulled me against him firmly, and pressed a rather impressive erection into my backside.

His hands were at my waist; unbuttoning my jeans and pulling the zipper down. We were both panting very loudly.

He leaned down over my shoulder and turned my chin to kiss me; penetrating my mouth with his tongue. He groaned into my mouth with desperation.

His hands were exploring my torso, cupping my breasts still trapped inside my bra. His right hand moved down into my jeans; palming me in my underwear, which I never should have worn in the first place.

He broke our kiss; and he kissed frantically down my cheek; to my jawline and down my neck. He moved to my shoulder and swept my hair to the left side, groaning and purring as he tasted my skin. I opened my eyes for no particular reason at all, but I caught the sight of the room we were in.

It was beautiful. A large bay window took up an entire wall, and continued to curve around to another wall before stopping half way in the middle. I could see the mountains to the east. Moonlight illuminated the room through the tinted windows, casting everything in a glowing blue light. It was a large open space, and in the corner by a closet was a tilted six wooden dresser. The bedroom pieces all matched, made of some dark colored wood with intricate designs on the front of the drawers.

Another dresser was underneath the bay window on the far side of the room, that one long and wide. The bed was a king size poster bed with large thick impressive posts and a unique lathe design. The duvet on the bed was a burgundy or deep red; the bed itself loaded down with bed pillows and accent pillows that matched the round pile high rug underneath the bed, on a polished concrete floor.

It looked like a kaleidoscope, with reds, browns, blacks, and yellows. There was some kind of carved chest at the bottom of the bed.

Peter was licking and sucking the flesh along my spine; his cold breath pricked my skin. He was setting me on fire while giving me goosebumps.

He unclasped my bra, sending another chill through my nerves. He lowered the straps off my shoulders and took it off, while still kissing down my spine.

He had crouched down or gotten on his knees, I didn't know which. I didn't really care, because his hands were running down my ass. Down my hips, down and over my thighs. I closed my eyes, and tried to stay quiet. His hands were large, their touch powerful. They made me feel wanted.

His hands came up to the waist of my jeans. He pulled them down along with my underwear. He helped me step out of them while holding me up at the same time. My legs were shaking.

He moved back up behind me slowly. Peter wasn't kissing me anymore. He was looking at me. I could feel him looking at me. I wanted to turn around, but I was a little afraid. I was naked, and more than a little self-conscious.

His hands moved up my calves. Then up my thighs. Over my hips, to my stomach, and to my breasts that he squeezed lightly with his palms. I closed my eyes again, aware of every point he touched, trails of fire lit all over my body. I could feel him all the way to my marrow.

Peter took my shoulders, and gently turned me around. I opened my eyes to look up into his.. He stepped away a little, and he was shrouded in darkness, but I could see well enough to see that he was looking at me with hooded eyes. They shifted slowly down my neck and lingered on my breasts. My nipples were hard. I didn't have look down to see that, they were aching badly.

He continued to look me over, his eyes widening, and he looked positively captivated. Still, being exposed before him while he was still clothed was intimidating, and it made me nervous.

His eyes lingered forever between my legs. He even looked at them, and then his eyes moved back up to look between them again.

I wavered on my feet, and he looked up at me. There was so much emotion on his face it was almost staggering.

For someone who didn't need to breathe, he sure had a hard time catching his breath, because it looked like he was struggling for air. He just stood there, his thick arms down at his sides.

"You're are those most beautiful woman I have ever seen." He said thickly.

I didn't know what to say, I guess a thank you would have been appropriate, but I found myself unable to even form the words. He made me believe he thought so, though. The reverence in his voice could not be compared with any compliment I had ever earned.

I took a deep breath. "Peter,"

He came forward so quickly, I almost missed his advance. Peter grabbed the sides of my head firmly, tilted my face up and I thought his lips were going to crash down onto mine with force; and need.

Instead, he put his lips on my softly; and the burn I felt from just this simple contact burned through every muscle of my body. It made my skin tingle all over, and just this tender kiss was enough to make me gasp.

His tongue entered my mouth and stroked my own. He pulled out and pulled back, his lips brushing mine and I opened my eyes.

His black eyes seemed to glow in the darkness, it was just the reflection of the moonlight probably. But they were filled with so much desire, so much love, and with a promise of ecstasy. My body was boiling for him, and I could feel the wetness between my legs increase with such a prospect.

"Jesus, Peter. I..."

_I think I am in love with you._

His lips cut me off and his tongue took over again caressing my own. The pounding in my chest made it hard to breathe; and I felt like I was almost to the point of suffocating.

The hum was almost a roar. His hands trailed down my spine, coming to rest on my hips. He pulled me tightly against him. I could feel a half purr, half groan resonating through his chest and the vibrations I felt in my breasts. My nipples felt achingly tight.

The ache in my pelvis was almost unbearable. It was so tight it demanded to be attended to.

My hands moved on their own accord. They wanted him naked, too. I was lifting up his shirt, and I could only get so far because he was caressing my back; and his hands squeezed and traveled down to squeeze my ass softly. He instantly broke away for just a moment so he could remove his own shirt.

He was so perfect; his alabaster skin seemed to glow in the dark. I reached up, my hands a little shaky. I felt the thick bands of muscles in his shoulders; and his hard chest.

His body was insanely hard. Chiseled out of granite, he did have the body of a God. Peter's chest was hairless, almost smooth. I felt defined pectorals with sporadic raised portions of crescent shaped skin. Scars.

Scars I couldn't see, and there were so many I couldn't even begin to fathom what he must have endured so many years ago. Scars that made him just as dangerous as he was caring, level headed, and thoughtful.

I could cry for what he had lived through. I could love him and the scars for the man that he was now.

When he pulled me back against him, the cold contact that my breasts made with his ribcage caused me to moan out. It was such a wonderful ache, such a profound lustful feeling that shot through my spine, and caused me to shudder. Not because he was cold, because touching him just did that. His body made mine hum, and his taste was a drug I was addicted to.

Peter latched onto my mouth again. His tongue forced it's way between my lips. He pulled away only to force his way inside my mouth again. And again. A rhythmic penetration and a promise of what to come.

Me. Him. Us! I was in love with his hands and I was in love with him.

I could feel the hard and thick length of him against my stomach. He held my hips firmly. The purr coming out of him was more pronounced, the animal caged inside him demanding release.

He pulled away from my mouth, kissing and sucking the skin underneath my jaw bone, my neck was stretched up for him, my head falling back on my own shoulders. As he assaulted my neck, he spoke thickly.

"Do you want me, Bella?"

"Yes. _God, _yes," I told him. My own voice was shaking, a little throaty.

"Show me where you want me. Take my hand and show me where you want me." He whispered.

His voice was vibrating with need so bad I couldn't imagine the determination it took to control the need to just throw me down and ravish my body with rabid intensity that would probably kill me.

That just didn't seem like such a bad thing.

Peter's hand was hesitating in-between us; at the top of my chest. I was tracing muscles; running over a patch of raise marks on the back of his shoulder. He was serious. He wanted me to show him. I took his hand with mine. I had a serious case of the tremors. I was nervous and excited. It was a little disconcerting, but I put some bravery into it.

I moved away from him a little, and I kept my eyes closed. I placed his hand on my neck and I slowly guided it lower onto my chest, coming to rest on my left breast. His hand stayed lax underneath mine, and I squeezed my own breast with his. He growled the sexiest sound I ever heard. His thumb ran across my nipple, and my body jerked and I cried out.

"God, your breasts are beautiful. They're so beautiful. So _perfect_. Show me, Bella. Show me where else." he said, his voice trembling.

Peter continued to assault my neck, along the artery that fed my heart. The same place he no doubt left a mark on no less than an hour and half ago.

I moved his hand down my stomach, gasping for air, gasping for life. It literally felt like he was sucking it all away, without even doing so.

It was erotic, intimidating, and embarrassing all at the same time. And it took a second to push away the reservations I felt.

I moved his hand between my legs, and cried out when he palmed my core. He traced my slit with his finger, dipping inside. He quickly found my nub; where he began to run circles.My body jerked involuntarily.

"God, Bella, you're burning up." Peter growled out.

"Peter, I.." _Need you inside me, need your mouth on me, all over me._

My words had been cut off again. He took my lips with his and with a raw edge. Our teeth contacted and his tongue was in my mouth. I didn't know how many times I had kissed him, but each one was better than the last. All of them passionate, erotic, and loving.

Peter's hand moved away from me. He broke away from my mouth. He dipped down and lifted me up by the back of my thighs. I quickly placed my arms around him wrapped my legs around his hips. He walked us over to the bed, and sat me on the edge, untangling himself from my limbs. Those thick banded shoulders shuddered with excitement, and I wondered what it would feel like to be underneath him.

His eyes bore into mine. Black eyes hooded with lust and so much intent, it was almost frightening; because they made him look thirsty.

He lowered himself to his knees slowly, using his hands to push my thighs open. His eyes raked down my torso like I was dinner. I leaned back and he leaned forward; kissing my lips softly, kissing and using his tongue to taste my skin. He went exaggerating slow down my jaw and down my neck to my collar bones. His hands were massaging the top and insides of my thighs. He brought them up to take my hands away from his biceps, placing them on the edge of the bed.

I was far from being quiet, but I couldn't care less. Peter's lips and tongue were moving down my chest, sucking on the flesh of my left breast. I arched into him, grinding my hips into bed; but not getting anywhere because of the way he was positioned.

I need him. Inside me and filling me up. I needed to _feel_ it.

He kissed around my nipple, and I watched him stick his tongue out and lick a circle around it. They were so painfully hard, I cried out loudly when he finally took it into his mouth. He suckled me and caressed me softly, while his other hand kneaded my other breast softly, priming it even more for his mouth. He had such a nice mouth; such a sinfully long tongue.

He swallowed against my flesh. I jerked hard, nearly falling off the bed. Peter grabbed onto my thighs firmly, making me sit as still as possible. I arched into him again, and he switched over and latched onto my other nipple firmly. Still squeezing the flesh, bringing more of it into his mouth. Yet still he was soft and loving. It was wonderful. Beautiful and erotic the way he was taking his time loving me.

Every time I tried to touch him, he'd pull my hand away from him and place it back on the bed. I was teetering on the edge of madness and coming undone.

"Peter, you have to let me touch you," I breathed out.

He looked up into my eyes while swallowing against my nipple. And for a moment there the action was so intense I actually thought he swallowed _it_. I cried out. His hands held mine down to the bed. He let my nipple go, and licked slowly over it while he smiled.

"You can't, Bella. Every time you touch me, I feel like I'm going to explode. Stay still. I'm gonna eat you. The only way I can, of course."

He was the devil.

"Oh, _God_."

I quit breathing. Peter was moving down, drawing my thighs out wider, placing my feet on the tops of his thighs, and then pulling my ass to the edge of the bed. I gripped onto the edge like a lifeline as he kissed my navel. My flesh had warmed his tongue, and he didn't even feel cold to me anymore.

I could feel the anticipation stirring right where I would feel that tongue. This was new for me.

I couldn't see the action really, but I could see his face. His eyes met mine when he finally reached his objective. He licked a path right up my center, and my body felt like a live wire.

"Peter," I finally breathed out.

He purred against me, like he enjoyed it.

He placed the most gentle kiss right on my core. I closed my eyes. I felt like I was going to fall apart. I couldn't hold onto the bed anymore, and my hands found the back of his broad shoulders once more. He was a huge presence between my legs, I could feel his muscles rolling in his shoulders.

He probed me and licked me with his tongue, holding my thighs apart with his forearms and holding me down in place because I was bucking into him.

He moved his right arm a little, and I felt a finger enter me. Then two. He pumped his fingers into me languidly, curling his fingertips, stroking my insides. I wanted them deeper. I let go of his shoulders and fell back onto the bed, holding my upper body up with shaky forearms. He flicked his tongue against my nub; sucking it into his mouth; driving his fingers into me slowly.

Peter was growling and purring against me, I felt the effects in my pelvic cavity, and it made the ever growing ache for release in me increase. The more I thrashed, the more he buried his fingers inside me. And just when I thought I was about to come, he pulled them out, and slowed down his assault with kisses against my core.

I felt his velvet, hard tongue thrust inside me. Thrusting, in and out; lightly pinching and rubbing circles over my nub with his fingers. My neck fell back, I couldn't hold my head up anymore.

I was on the brink. The coil tightening deep within in me. The heat so intense between my legs, and something I've never felt before. And every time I was about to fall off the edge, he'd slow his wonderful technique and change it. The ache in my lower regions had grown to the point where I could feel it in my belly, in my nerves and in the ever present hum inside my ears. It was like a symphony, and Peter was playing me like a violin; the strings getting ready to snap.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop. Please, please..."

My own voice sounded foreign to me.

And he didn't. He was consuming my senses, and consuming my pussy. He could eat me like that anytime. He moved his hand to my belly to keep me from jerking and thrashing. I couldn't help it; my hips ground into his face under their own volition. I was almost there.

His lips left me. "Look at me, Bella."

I raised my head and looked at him; and although he was blurry, his eyes were looking into mine underneath the hair that had fallen forward on his head. He licked a path to the top of my cleft, and then he speared my nub with his tongue, flicking it over and over again, he was pushing me over.

I came undone. Every body part below the neck spasmed violently, and I fell into a void where the hum pulsed behind my eyes in vivid color.

My legs were twitching, so were my feet. He didn't stop. I reached out to push his head away from me, the resounding effects of my orgasm making me too sensitive. I couldn't take anymore, yet he held me down firmly. My feet were digging into his thighs, and he just kept going. He growled and moaned and swallowed against my opening.

He was swallowing me. He just kept going, licking me and purring against a very sensitive bundle of abused nerves. His eyes were closed and there seemed to be no breaking his focus or his technique.

"Oh, God. You have to stop. I can't take anymore," I cried.

He moaned against me once more and let go of me. His shoulders raised up, and he was smiling as he breathed out of his nose. Tears had formed in the corners of my eyes, and I brushed them away. Peter stood up in a fluid motion and back away just a step.

He was shaking his head in wonder, awe, and intensity. He almost looked afraid.

"I need you now, Bella." He almost sounded like he was admitting some secret.

My legs were lax, thighs spread apart. It took a great deal of effort on my part to raise my upper body back up on my forearms.

I studied his face for a moment, not sure at what I was seeing. He was rigid. I started to feel confused, and worried.

I looked at him intently. "Come here. Take your clothes off, or come here and I'll do it."

There was just no way to describe the look that showed on his face. He _was_ worried.

"I'm a little fucking afraid. When I fill you up I'm going to come, immediately. I just know it. You'll be so tight and warm and you have no idea how long I've..."

I didn't wait to react. As soon as the words were out of his mouth I responded without using the filter between my brain and my mouth.

"So. You'll come. Are you trying to tell me it's the first and last time you ever will? Your afraid because you think you'll disappoint me? Please. Do I need to remind you you're a vampire?"

I watched his head jerk back. He was so cute when he was struck stupid. I almost wanted to laugh, but this was a serious matter for him. It was obvious he was nervous, and though he really didn't say, I had to wonder of course if Charlotte was the last woman he laid with. I was pretty positive she was. I was pretty positive she was his first and his last.

He had been through so much throughout life. It's a wonder he just didn't give up.

Peter looked down. "Oh yeah. I'm being dumb, aren't I?" He looked back up at me, and the smile was almost innocent.

A thought occurred. As he watched me move, his tense jaw became lax. I scooted myself up a little more to the middle of the bed and cocked a knee up. I spread my leg wide for him, and laid back. His eyes widened dramatically, and then he positively looked as if he were struck stupid.

I sighed and gave him the best seductive glance underneath I could give.

"Peter, I want to be with you, no matter what. I want you to make love to me. Take your jeans off and come here."

Even my own forwardness shocked me, but somehow I couldn't find myself to really care. Peter being nervous about it was chipping away at my forwardness, however. He just stood there, and stared at me.

"Peter."

His eyes snapped up and he sighed. "You're so beautiful."

He bent down, and started to remove his shoes. I drank in the sight of him, bent straight over. Alabaster skin, bathed in blue moonlight. Bands of muscle and tendons in his shoulders and back moved fluidly as he worked taking off his shoes and socks. He wasn't rushing at all.

Peter stood up, his eyes were cast in shadow, but I more than less felt his penetrating stare. His hair which was normally parted down the middle was tousled, falling more into his face. Lidded eyes I couldn't see. A perfect straight and narrow nose. But not too narrow. Nostrils slightly flaring, breathing in the scent of my sex. Full lips set tight in a straight line with a very defined jaw.

He was such a overwhelming presence, even when he wasn't that close. Thick and broad shoulders, large arms, and a strong sculpted chest. His abdomen a six pack, he was so toned that the raised muscles cast slight shadows on each group.

His arms were long just as much as they were large. Peter unbuttoned his jeans, pulled down the zipper, threaded his thumbs in his waist line and pushed them over and then down his legs. He stepped out of them.

I quit breathing.

I started thinking.

Because for a second there was no way, no way in hell he was going to fit.

Maybe I shouldn't have been surprised. He was German. Germans really wouldn't necessarily worry about underwear, would they? German women wouldn't worry about shaving their legs or their underarms, or brassieres for that matter, or was it the French? I didn't fucking know.

It didn't matter anyway, because the sight before me was colossal. Long legs, large thighs, and strong calves. A smooth line of brown hair running down from his naval, to his V and to the length that hung between his legs.

His beautiful sex jutted straight out from his body. His dick looked heavy, proud, and it was demanding attention. Peter was thick and long; and even if he did fit, it was going to hurt.

I was going to be sore in the morning. Wonderfully sore. His erection was a beautiful rock solid almost aberration of nature.

It was oddly quiet. And then I realized I wasn't breathing. I took a shuddering breath, and Peter sighed. Smiling a little, he advanced tentatively.

"Relax, Bella. And blink. Whether you believe it or not, you were made for me."

I swallowed my shock as he climbed up the bed, his shoulders rolling like a cat on the prowl, and he moved up between my parted thighs. He was still nervous but he was trying to be brave. I spread my thighs apart even wider, and made room for his hips. I shook off my stupid behavior as I felt that length brush along my thigh and poke me in the stomach.

A nervous chill ran down my neck, and into my breasts. My skin pricked.

"You didn't tell me about _that _gift."

He chuckled as he propped himself up on his left forearm, some of his weight bearing down on me. Immediately my body responded to the feel of him over me, and I wrapped my arms over his shoulders and around his neck.

"Actually, it's hereditary. My mama didn't pop out four kids for nothing, you know. And I remember the walls in the house were thin. I used to sleep with my head underneath the pillow. Am..am I too heavy for you, Bella? You're having trouble breathing," he mumbled. He had begun to kiss me softly, lazily. He kissed my entire face. My eyes, my nose, my mouth, everywhere.

The only reason I was breathless was because my nerves were reacting. A blast of heat licked over me, into my breasts and between my legs. I felt a jolt of nervousness and panic because he was shifting his hips and undulating against me. That proud length was slipping between me; caressing all things still sensitive and actually a little painful from his fingers.

"No, no. But I have to tell you something. I've only ever been with one man, and it wasn't Edward. I...I was eighteen. I don't..."

"Bella, stop. Stop right there. There's no room for the men in your past in my bed. Just like there's no room for Charlotte, either. This is you and me. I'll be very careful. " His right palm swept softly down the column of my neck; traveling down my breastbone and to my ribs.

"Sorry." And I was. What the fuck was wrong with me? I wasn't afraid of Peter. I wanted him for Christ's sake. I wanted all of him.

He was breathing heavy, and I heard him growl lightly as I felt a fresh wave of wetness present at the juncture between my thighs, and that helped with the burning sensation.

"Don't be. You're just a little nervous and it's understandable. So am I. But _God, _Bella, you're so soft and warm. You don't have idea what you're doing to me."

I breathed out in a long rush. Peter's hands and lips were everywhere. He wrapped the arm that was supporting his upper body underneath my shoulder blades, arching my breasts up so he could catch my left breast in his mouth. He tugged at me lightly, and he suckled reverently.

His eyes were closed, and he was taking his time. His other hand was exploring, caressing my skin on a downward path along my rib cage. Over my hip and to the back of my thigh. I threw my leg over the small of his back and let my foot rest on his ass. He ran his hand down my leg, over my knee, down my shin, and over my foot.

Peter was softly purring, the sweet vibrations moving through me in little waves of content and pleasure. Every nerve in my spine reacted, every finger on my hands running across his shoulders and down the contracting muscles of his back, feeling him.

I loved the feel of his body over mine. The strength and the masculinity. Peter growled softly as I ran my hand down his side. My head lolled back to the bed, and I closed my eyes to revel in the feel of him. Enjoying every gentle touch.

His sex was poised right at my entrance, and maybe I was made for him, because all he had to do was push forward and he would seat himself inside me. He languidly kiss his way over my breasts and up my chest. He breathed in deeply while licking and sucking the skin on the column of my neck.

He lifted his head. "Look at me, Bella."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. His eyes were liquid.

He pushed forward. The head of that mass penetrated me, stretching me.

As I was looking at him, I caught the reflection of the moonlight on the ceiling. Above Peter's head, swinging ever so slightly back and forth across the ceiling was a oval ring that looked like a halo. He already looked surreal above me; the moonlight making his skin look honed and polished.

He was an angel that could have been carved out of stone had he not been so filled with life.

I smiled and bit my lip and glanced down between us. He began to tremble a little, and I removed my right hand from his back to palm his cheek. I encouraged him with my eyes, forcing myself to relax.

Peter pushed forward a little more, moving further inside me. The halo was barely moving over his head now, and I stole a glance over to the window. Sitting on the dresser was a little metal stand holding a little miniature wind chime, the reflection was coming from the striker. A draft from the window causing it to move.

The sensation of him stretching me wasn't so bad. I was so wet already, and Peter pushed forward again until he seated himself fully. Right to my pubic bone.

We both cried out. I shuddered as the tendons between my legs leading into my thighs stretched for him. His head had dropped down to the right side of my neck for a moment, and his cold breath sent wonderful chills down my body.

When he raised his head, the halo had stopped above his head almost perfectly; though it was a little bent.

He was panting, his cold breath caressed my heated face. His eyes blacker then the pits of hell, but liquid. Love shined within. "You're so tight, Bella. It's Heaven inside you."

"Mmm." I shifted my hips urging him to move and closed my eyes, relishing the feel of him deep inside me. "Well, Angel, it's Heaven feeling you inside me. Move, Peter."

Peter who had begun to pull out of me ever so slightly, froze on top of me and lifted his head. I opened my eyes.

His jaw was tense. His pitch black eyes burned into me intensely and they were wide. He looked almost shocked. He stopped breathing; and he wasn't moving. I thought back to what I said, thinking maybe I offended him in someway.

"Peter, what's wrong?" I asked him gently.

His eyes focused, and he shook his head. "You called me Angel," He whispered. But he still seemed tense, he still remained frozen.

I breathed out. "I'm..I'm sorry, should I have not done that?"

He instantly looked alarmed. He relaxed and he pushed back into me slowly, and his face softened and he smiled softly. "No, no. You can call me whatever you want."

He brushed his lips across mine, gently deepening the kiss and exploring my mouth. I moaned into his kiss, that hard length of him pulling out nearly all the way, pushing slowly back into me. I couldn't help but wonder why that affected him so deeply, but it was obvious it did upset him in some way. He continued to kiss me and he made love to me easy and slow, for what felt like infinity. Nothing went untouched. We were joined, and it was beautiful.

I was lost in the euphoria of him inside me, touching me, massaging my breasts between us. Rolling my nipples softly with his fingers. Kissing me reverently, only breaking away so I could breathe. And when he did he whispered loving words to me, but I was so far gone, I couldn't even begin to fathom what he was saying.

I heard 'tight'; I heard 'beautiful'. I heard 'good'; I heard 'hot'.

I heard 'I love you', and not much of anything else.

I could feel his restraint inside the muscles of his back. He felt so tense. Still, he rocked into me slowly. He was doing so well keeping himself from falling off the edge, but he needed the release so badly. Every pulse into me was pure heaven, and I knew he wanted to make this first time the greatest, but what he didn't realize is it already was.

I didn't care if he made me come again or not. I had never felt so happy in all my life, and so very satisfied.

I needed to see his face when he exploded, just like he wanted to see mine. I broke the kiss, and I told him what I wanted, figuring it was the only thing that could make him work to take the leap.

"I need more, Peter. Faster. Harder."

He raised up on his arms, supporting his body weight while he grabbed my left leg off the small of his back. I gripped his biceps and he held my knee and pushed my leg up. He undulated his hips while starting to move faster inside me. I gyrated my hips and it drove him mad with need. He hissed and latched on to my left breast; really working my nipple with his tongue.

The new position and his frantic thrusts hit something deep with in me. I felt an impending release building up as I grew hotter. He released my breast and stared with intensity into my eyes. The heat was so intense it made me cry out, and I went over the edge without even knowing I was on it. My body seized up and Peter let out a guttural sound.

My orgasm slammed into my core then raced throughout my body. I felt my inner muscles clamp down him as he drove within me one final time.

"Oh, Bella, I..." His body contracted, all of his muscles tensed and froze. He arched his back, and I could see straining tendons in his neck. Peter growled deeply, and I felt his cold release explode deep within me. It was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He collapsed down on me and his weight sucked my breath away. He quickly turned over onto our sides and pulled out of me.

"It was incredible, Peter. Absolutely incredible. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He mumbled out, and I had to stifle a laugh. He seemed exhausted.

Peter rubbed my the length of my back while we laid in silence, our bodies a tangled mess. I tucked my head into his chest and just breathed his sweet scent, listening to his hum.

It really was the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

_Twenty Minutes Later:_

Realization slammed into me like a wrecking ball as I laid with Bella tucked into my body. Realization of the truth, and the truth was I didn't know what would happen.

She was the one that had control of our future, and she could very well destroy me along with the destiny that was intended for the both of us. I needed her and I craved her body.

And her blood.

All I would have to do is tell her entire truth, and if I did that now, I would surely die.

But I needed to tell her the truth. I had to do it. The guilt was slowly killing me. Lying to her was a sin.

I was starting to resent it. Not Bella, I could never resent her. She was the core and the love of my existence. She was the one that was the innocent bystander in all this mess. I was responsible for putting her on the path to discovery. For putting her on the path to _me_.

It had never been her choice, but it would be her choice where the future would take us. She chose to except me into her life, and she chose to lay with me. She was choosing to love me.

She would cast me out of her life, once she found out the truth.

I resented Charlotte, or whoever the fuck it was that gave me Bella. My future with Bella was now uncertain, and Charlotte put me through hell by showing me her in the first place.

I did what I needed to do. I wrapped my entire existence around the heart of a frail child who grew into a woman and who could probably kill me with just a word. I did what I needed to do because I would get to keep Bella and love her forever.

And then Charlotte chose to fuck with my future. Dear, God. Why the fuck did she do that?

_Let's fuck with Peter, because he surely hasn't been fucked with enough yet._

It had taken a great herculean effort on my part to come to this point in my life. In her life. At least mentally it had. Bella wasn't a reward. She had her own heart and mind and soul, for Christ's sake. She had the right to choose who she loved and why.

Which is why I couldn't never tell her the truth. I realized that if I did, I could possibly lose her. How the fuck would anybody feel finding out that their entire life, every moment had not been their own? How would anyone feel knowing that every private and intimate moment of their life was seen by another?

How would she feel once she knew that every heartbreaking moment she had to experience no matter how small or how devastating it was, could have been possibly been deterred or not happened in the first place?

Except death. Maybe death could be put off for a short amount of time; but in the end, it was fate. If you were supposed to die. You were supposed to die.

Even if I could have stopped her mother from making that ill fated trip, she still would have died at some point. It was the way it was intended, I had no right to interfere.

And if I told Bella the truth, I was telling her that she should believe in God and Heaven. But she should have believed in the higher power that ruled over all of us. Faith had never been a forte of hers. She went to church occasionally when she was a child, and she read Genesis. That was it. She didn't pray.

Neither did I.

Even those who had strong faith had their doubts, because when it came down to it, the shit could be more fearsome than knowing that vampires and shape shifters existed.

But I owed Bella the truth. I respected her. I loved her. And I would tell her, but I didn't know how I was going to do that anymore. I didn't know when. I was selfish enough to want to love her with everything I had and everything that I was. Not just her guardian 'angel.' And I wanted her to love me.

Maybe when the time came, she could accept it and believe in it; and still love me.

But maybe it would destroy her, just like it would kill me to lose her. This was it for me, it was life with Bella or death without her.

I couldn't let her go, if it came down it. It would kill me. If she did try to leave me, I would probably kill her, too.

And if she stroked my cock just one more time, I was going to pin Bella on her stomach and drive myself inside her. She was home, and there was no place like home.

"Jesus Christ, woman. You're killing me here."

Bella giggled like a little naughty girl, and that shit was just unheard of. Sure she laughed, but when she did shit like that, it made the animal in me twitch with excitement.

It made me just want fuck the hell out of her, and there was no room for it that night. There was no room for it period, because I'd kill her.

She had a knack for distracting me from thoughts of death and destruction. Even when she wasn't around. She had a knack for keeping me sane.

"I'm sorry, am I bothering you, Mr. Fischer?" She asked innocently.

She needed to be spanked.

She kissed my chest. "You're looking pretty intense over there. What's on your mind?"

I opened my eyes, she looked worried.

Did she realize I was beaming on the inside because she called me by my given name? Because I was. I wanted to give her my name.

Over there was only two inches. We were laying on our sides, our heads were almost the only thing not touching each other. Her breasts were crushed up against me; and my head was laying on her arm. She was running her fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my eyes. Her other arm was lodged in between us, and she had just begun to stroke my dick. She had been very tentatively exploring me.

The rational part of my mind was still reeling from the fact that I just made love to Bella Swan. It was the irrational part that was thinking about killing her if she left me. I could never kill her. I could never take away her choice.

I kissed her lazily, I was still in recovery mode. My mind was, not my dick. He had a mind of his own, and his own intentions for the past twenty minutes.

"Not much, just thinking about you. Seriously though, if you keep stroking my dick you're gonna to start something."

"Don't fight the feeling."

When I told her everything I wanted to do to her on top of that pinnacle, I was purely telling her what I wanted to do with her. Just not necessarily all in one night. Because when I really thought about it, Bella was human—and I had a big dick. She was little. She was _tight_.

She was probably already sore, and when we made love I had been worried that I would tear her. I actually saw it, in another lifetime. It wasn't just that. I had managed to make love to her for a good duration of time.

She had put my fears to rest. I had thought she would have thought less of me if I would have plunged into her and shot off like a rocket. That shit just wasn't good for a man's ego, or a vampire's. Especially mine when one considered how long I had waited for her.

I was still learning not to forsake her heart and the woman she was. She was stroking me; yet she was hesitant. Afraid of rejection; afraid to tell me what she wanted.

Making love to Bella, I realized a few things.

The main one was she was just completely content with someone holding onto her tightly, holding her together and loving her just like she loved them on an emotional level. She already experienced being intimate with someone who wasn't emotionally attached to her anymore, and that was the reason I wanted to kill Jacob. That one night in between her birthday and the night he told her he imprinted, she was wanting to feel his love for her, and didn't.

Whether she came out of the experience satisfied or not, she still needed to at least _feel_ like she was loved wholeheartedly. He failed her on so many fucking levels, I wanted to shred that fucker to pieces.

Another was the level of self esteem she had. She was nervous, but she was determined as hell to have me, too. She had matured and she was going after what she wanted. When I was momentarily struck with idiocy because of my own pride, she made one shameless offer and exposed that sweet spot between her legs.

She knew no man could refuse that, but it would have broken her if I did. She was trying to be strong for me.

The other thing I realized, for just one moment, was I wanted to kill her.

I wanted to bite into her throat. The scent of her blood when she felt nothing but feverish lust was enough to drive me to the brink of killing her in the throws of passion. It was a reflexive thought because of the creature I was and the blood I thrived upon. I could never do it; not in those aspects, anyway.

The other thing was what her body did to me. Every caress, every kiss was laced with a low level electric buzz that absorbed into my skin; through the areas of my body that she considered muscles and bones. It was a wonderful feeling; it made me feel more powerful, and it obliterated the fear I felt. It strengthened the indestructible lines that tied me to Bella.

I could never let her go.

"Don't fight the feeling, huh? I can't refuse an offer like that."

She was utterly beautiful. On the outside and in the inside. Which is exactly where I wanted to be. On the outside, Bella was really no warmer then any other human I had come into contact with. But I loved her warmth.

I had killed thousands. People with families. People that fed off society themselves. I knew just how much strength I could yield with her without breaking her in half or crushing her head. But delicacy during intercourse was new, and a little scary.

Being with her made me feel human. I could almost remember what it was like to be that way again.

Her face was so lovely, and she was still flushed. She had ivory skin that was smooth as silk. The bones in her face were just as delicate as the rest of her body. Her jaw was a graceful arch running from her ears to her chin.

She had a half inch scar underneath her chin. It was from the first time she rode that goddamn bike without it's training wheels. She even bit her tongue. She still had a faint line on her head from crashing the motorcycle.

She was worrying her bottom lip, biting it. I leaned closer and pulled it in between my lips, and watched her eyes open.

Kissing Bella was something I could never tire of. But tasting her mouth came only second to that sweet spot between her legs, and I could stay there all night.

I wanted her tongue in my mouth, exploring mine, but it really was too dangerous. Her lips were sinful, her mouth hot. My imagination was running wild with what it would be like with her lips around my cock. But I tucked away that thought for later. She wasn't ready for that yet. I only wanted to make love to her again and sheath myself completely inside the confines of her wet pussy.

Her scent filled the room; her body responded almost immediately. I could smell a fresh wave of arousal seeping from her core, and it made me purr with anticipation and need. My dick was already seeking out her slick warmth, twitching away in her soft hand.

I licked across her lips and she opened for me; and I gave her an idea of what she should expect when I would take her again. I wanted to possess her body. I wanted to show her what I could really do.

She let out a feminine sigh of pleasure against my mouth. I smiled into her, and reached down and grabbed the hand that was pumping my very happy dick. If she kept going, I wasn't going to last at all. I let go of her mouth and tasted the flesh on her right shoulder, while urging her onto her stomach.

I sat up and moved over Bella, kissing and tasting the skin along her spine. Salty from sweat; yet still as sweet as when she was clean. Her backside was equally beautiful as the front. The Moon reflected off of her in blues and greens; the sheen in her skin lovely. It highlighted her curves, and the delicate bones and muscles inside her body. Blood flowed quickly through her veins.

Gone was the gawky and awkward slender girl that arrived in Santa Fe with a shattered heart. Her hips had widened and they emphasized her narrow waist. Her breasts were set high and they were firm. Her swells not overflowing my palms by too much, and her nipples were pink, proportionate, and very sensitive. I was a sucker for a great set of real tits.

It saddened me to know that her body would never bear a child. At least she _shouldn't_.

I breathed down her spine and watched her skin prick. She arched her ass into me, teasing my cock. When I reached the small of her back and cupped her full little ass, she made an incredible noise deep inside her throat. She was so primed for me, it almost took away my resolve to take it slow.

I parted her thighs and cupped her core. She was so wet for me, and I began to shake a little as I kissed her hip. Her arousal smelled liked her normal scent, but with the hint of sweet cream and citrus; clean and delicious. I wanted every drop she had to offer.

Earlier when we reached the climax of our union, she smiled at me with what I thought looked like deep, profound love. It almost made me break down like a fucking Nancy and get all sloppy on her again. In time, no doubt, it would happen.

I hoped she could understand what I had lived with for the past twenty one years. I hoped she could see the miracle of such a thing. I hoped she could understand what it had done to me. I would pray for her forgiveness.

I petted her and coated the fingers of my right hand with her essence, and slid a finger inside her. I worked her softly, prepping her for a much more larger invasion; because that's exactly what it was to her tight little body, and as much as I could get off on the thought of making her hurt a little, getting her off really stroked my ego more.

But she wouldn't be on her stomach right then if that were completely the case. Taking her this way was all about me. I wanted to fuck her senseless.

I moved over her body, slipping my index finger in with my middle deep inside her. Bella moaned out lightly.

"Are you sore, Bella?"

"No, God, Nooo." She groaned out softly. She lifted her head off the mattress, to look back at me with hooded and lust filled eyes. Her breaths were coming fast now. She threw her arms up over her head on the bed, and pushed back into my hand. She lifted her legs up underneath her, spreading herself more open and arching her ass.

She shifted her hips and clenched her muscles around my fingers. That was my breaking point.

"Fuck," I hissed at her.

I removed my fingers from her wet core. As I shifted to my knees behind her, Bella rose up on her arms. The look on her profile as she turned her back to look at me told me she was completely into this. She let out a little lilted moan.

"I'll be very careful, I promise."

"I know you'll be."

I palmed my cock and stroked her, coating myself with her slick heat. I entered her slowly, the walls of her passageway gripped me, and beckoned me to sheath myself fully inside her. I slid in deep, all the way to the base of my cock, and held still as she was overtaken by tremors. She moaned out gutturally.

I shifted inside her, stretching her a little. Her heat roared throughout my body as she pushed back into me immediately.

She arched her back and shoulders as I admired the dip in her spine. A deep growl escaped my chest, the sight of her giving herself to me like this challenging the resolve to take it slow. The combined scents of her blood along with her arousal made my throat constrict, and burn painfully.

I pumped into her slowly, relishing in the feel of the ridges inside her. She was so incredibly tight, her walls clamped down on me like a vice, the pain and the pressure applied to my cock so intense. I couldn't help but growl out my appreciation with each light thrust. I watched her pink and swell up even more, because of my invasion.

Bella was smaller than me and her body flexible. My hips took over under their own volition and I moved up over her back, curling myself around her. I swept the hair away from her face and twisted her chin around, kissing her with all the passion and love I had for her.

I possessed her body. Her moaning, and just the very thought of her trust in me, made me think it was the other way around, though. She brought out the good in the man I was, but the animal in me was starting to work it's way out, and it wanted to do some nasty things with Bella. Just one of those thoughts was fucking the hell out of her while drinking her blood. Her scent permeated the room, it clung to my skin, and it made the blaze in my throat hotter.

I broke away from her mouth to tell her. Because she deserved to know she really did affect me and goddamn it, I was going to tell her what truths I could. Even though I didn't wanna stop, maybe she did.

"Bella, I have to tell you something. I lied. I lied about your scent. I wanna bite you. I wanna drink your blood and fuck you at the same time."

She looked into my eyes for a moment, gauging me. I kept pumping into her, she had closed her mouth and she was moaning deep inside her chest.

"Mmm, You really wanna..Mmm..do that?" I sunk into her and stopped when she was full to the kilt. Her face was a picture of pure ecstasy, there was no worry or anger in that response, plus she smiled a little. She liked it. She liked the thought.

I nodded at her in disbelief for the trust she was giving me; and on all nights, it was this one.

"Yes. But I think for both our sakes, I better not."

She was breathless and pushed into me with her ass. "That's probably a good..idea. Besides..you promised..to cook me breakfast..in the morning."

I pulled out of her to my tip, and drove back into her, her grunt nearly matched my own.

"You're right, I did. It was just a thought."

"Ohh, _God_. Don't _stop_." I crashed my lips into to hers, and shoved my tongue in her hot little mouth, mimicking the thrusts I was filling her with. With a moan of defeat, she lost her strength, and sunk down to her chest and laid her head down on the bed. I shifted my hands to her waist and held on for dear life. She took me from tip to base, and I was lost in the feeling of Bella.

I let go of her waist and rose over her again, planting my fists beside her shoulders, and pounded into her. Bella gripped the cover on the bed so hard her knuckles were turning white. Her face was turned to the side, her eyes closed, and her mouth open. She was the perfect picture of ecstasy.

She was moaning out gutturally, covered with a sheen of sweat. Then all of a sudden she grabbed my left wrist, curled her head down, and bit into the top of my hand.

She wouldn't get anywhere, but just seeing her do that drove me to the point of exploding. Before I could manage to reach around her to tease her, she came undone. She cried out wildly, her frantic heart stopping just for an instant. Her body spasmed violently as her wet heat clenched around me.

I didn't want to end. I pulled out of her before her orgasm faded and flipped her over onto her back. Her legs flopped to the sides like she no longer had the strength to make them work.

The sight of her all swollen almost had me coming all over her thighs. I plunged back inside her watching her face contort in ecstasy as she cried out. She reached out and I let her pull me down to her.

It was the most simplest act of her love for me that made my body seize up, and with a shattering blast that took my breath away and robbed me of my sight momentarily; I came. All the while she watched me; her eyes still hooded with lust and love. The pulses faded, and she milked me for all that I was worth.

I collapsed down on her. I heard all the breath whoosh out of her lungs, but still, she wrapped her arms around me and held me to her. I tried to move off of her but she held me tighter. 

She was breathless. "Where are you going?"

"I'm crushing you."

"No you're not. You're perfectly fine. Just stay there."

I let my head fall down onto her shoulder, and kissed that horrendous mark I had put on her neck.

We laid there for a couple minutes in silence. I listened as her heartbeat slowed, and kissed along the profile of her jaw while she ran her fingers through my hair. She moved to wrap her legs around me, and she winced a little.

"Did I hurt you?"

She laughed once under her breath. "A little. But it's a good pain. I'm am tired, though." She mumbled. Her voice was dry; cracking. I realized she hadn't had anything to drink for quite awhile.

"Wussy human."

She smiled from ear to ear, and breathed out. "Asshole."

"I'm just kidding. I put your mind and body through an awful lot tonight." She rubbed circles around a couple of scars on my back.

She grimaced first, but she smiled from ear to ear again. Bella kept her eyes closed, and she dropped her voice. "Yeah, you did."

"Plus, I could have killed you. While in the midst of sexual intercourse."

Bella raised her eyebrows quickly and smiled some more. She opened up her eyes and turned her head towards me. They were full of depth.

"No, I don't think so. Really, I was already thinking there was something wrong with you, you're very controlled."

She took a deep breath. "But then, I realized you're just a lying bastard and you're really no different then the other three vampires that wanted to eat me. The only difference is you," She paused.

"The only difference is what?"

She grimaced and licked her lips. "You're.." She twitched. "You're in love with me."

"True." I whispered to her, and I kissed her chin. I pulled out of her slowly, rolled off of her, and made my way off the bed. Having that conversation progress anymore could have made her say something she wasn't ready to say, and the same logic could probably be applied to the truth also.

"Where are you going?"

"To get you some water. I'll be right back."

I flitted to the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water from the fridge, and ran back into the bedroom. I walked into the bathroom grabbing a hand towel out of the cabinet. She was still flat on her back but she had her knees bent. I crawled on the bed and sat on her left side, lifting her shoulders up as she tried to sit up. She smiled at me as I took the lid off and handed her the bottle. I eased the towel gently between her legs. She blushed.

"You're leaking like the Rio fucking Grande."

Her head was on fire. Almost literally. She covered her eyes with her free hand, and drew up her knees even more with my hand clamped down on her. She groaned.

"It isn't all _me_."

"I know," I chuckled. "Drink your water."

I removed my hand and threw the towel on the floor. I started pulling off most of the pillows and throwing them down, saving four. She liked to sleep with two pillows, and the one she laid her head on had to be a feather.

I pulled back the sheet and blankets, and when I turned back to her she had already gulped down the entire bottle.

"I'll go get you some more. The bathroom's right over there, if you have to go."

She didn't look at me, but she mumbled out. "I do."

I took my time and went and got her another bottle while she used the bathroom.

I timed it perfectly, walking back into the bedroom as she walked out of the bathroom. She was fidgeting because she was naked. I picked her up and cradled her to carry her over to the bed. She laughed quietly.

I crawled in and put her on the right side, the side she liked to sleep on. She took the bottle out of my hand and opened it to get another drink. When she was done, I leaned over her and put it on her nightstand.

Bella always kept a glass or a bottle close in case she woke up, or had a nightmare.

I hit the button for the shutters on my side of the bed; she watched them come off the roof and slide down. The right side was groaning and squeaking loudly. Blowing dirt had accumulated in the tract.

"Neat."

I couldn't wait to tell her about building this house.

"I built this house by myself, from the foundation up. There's a garden outside, and the view is great. I'll show you around in the morning."

She looked over at me and smiled. "Good. I'd like that."

She scooted down and turned over until she was laying on her right side. She pulled me to her while shifting her pillow until it was just right. I pulled the sheet and the blankets over our bodies. She put one of her legs in between mine and I tucked her and her pillow into my chest.

She craned her neck up and I kissed her goodnight.

"Goodnight, Peter." She hunkered down and adjusted her pillow some more and sighed audibly.

"Goodnight, Bella."

It wasn't five minutes later and she was asleep, snoring softly, in our bed. She was completely exhausted. There would be no dreams, there would be no talking in her sleep.

I stayed with her, shifting her away from me occasionally when she would get too cold. Mostly I just held her, though. I had to.

I thought about the future, the future I used to know.

It was a little after six, the sky was starting to lighten behind the shutters when she let out a soft sigh. Her heartbeat was slow and even, her breaths light. She nuzzled my chest with her nose.

"Hmm."

I barely kissed the skin on her forehead when I felt a cold blast of air around the bed.

I had turned the heat up when we got home, the windows were closed. They were air tight.

"Peter."

Bella was still sleeping soundly. Her eyelids were closed but her eyes were moving back and forth underneath them.

"I'm here," I whispered to her, stroking her lips.

"Hmm, hold onto... it. Just a little...while longer." It was a mumble a mortal man could never understand.

Shock rippled through me, ripping the breath from me as a cold blast chilled the dead heart deep within me. Bella sighed, her breath visible in the freezing air.

And all my shock was replaced with fury. Fury at the cold energy I could feel seeping from Bella's skin. Fury for the voice that came from Bella's mouth.

Fury and overwhelming terror because it was not her own.

It was a voice I haven't heard for twenty two years. A lilted, silky, voice that used to ring heavenly in my ears. A voice that used to soothe me, and it no longer had a place here.

_You leave Bella alone. Go away. Please go away._

"Shh."

I could feel the cold lift away from her; like a billowing cloud moving slowly through the sky. I couldn't see it, I could only feel it. Cold energy that crackled through the air silently. I crushed Bella to me in a tight embrace and she let out a moan of discomfort.

I eased up, and she took a deep breath. Smiling a little while she sighed out. Her heartbeat even, her skin warm again.

The blast of cold gone, the energy dissipated. The room was as it was, only three seconds ago.

"Hmm."

It was Bella's voice.

"Bella," I whispered.

"I love you." She sighed out loud, and she fell silent again.

My throat and chest felt tight and I heard a strange choking sound. The bed was shaking a little. I realized it was me.


	11. Chapter 10 PATWAP Part I

Chapter 10. Pledging Away The Weekend At Peter's.

Part One: The Bet.

**AN: Thanks for reading. **

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***B*E*L*L*A***

Waking up was proving to be very difficult.

The first time I slipped out of my Peter induced, post coital sleep, daylight threatened to wake me up. I was on my left side facing the open shutters.

I rolled over and tucked myself into Peter.

I was also in a very comfortable plush bed. Peter's leg worked itself in-between mine when I moved. One heavy arm jostled me as he wrapped underneath me. His other arm was lazily resting along my stomach and his hand in-between my breasts.

I went back to sleep.

When I woke up again, our legs were still twisted together. One of Peter's fingers was tracing circles around my left nipple.

I could feel his cold breath on the side of my neck. His nose and his lips barely touching my skin. Peter was breathing slowly, steadily.

His dick twitched against my thigh. In my stupor I began to think about it. His dick, that is. I started thinking about silly things; like no matter where he goes, his dick always gets there first. And then I thought about that movie 2010, with Roy Schneider. His dick was like a huge ass monolith that contained billions and billions of stars, and I certainly saw my share the night before.

I also thought that maybe it was my best interest to consider protective head gear, because my body felt like Jello; fresh off the burner and still liquid.

I dozed off again at some point. I just couldn't snap out of the 'I just got laid' coma.

I woke up while in the midst of turning over and stretching my legs. My whole body when into stretching mode. I must have been unconsciously reacting finally to Peter trying to coerce me awake. It was obvious he was in the mood for a little morning nookie.

My body however, was definitely not.

The pulsating pain hit almost instantly deep within in the tissues of my calf. A Charley Horse from hell hit inside my left leg and traveled down into my foot. My whole body froze up. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. I moved to grab the pillow underneath my head so I could scream into it.

Peter's arm however was the only thing within my grasp and I bit into his bicep. Well, I tried while letting out an agonizing wail.

"What the fuck!?" He was completely taken off guard, and he sounded a little pissed and alarmed at the same time.

I panted and cried out. He started to remove the leg that had only shifted a little when I had moved.

"No! Don't! Don't move! Charley Horse! Oh, _fuck_!"

I opened my eyes right at the precise moment Peter ripped off the covers. You could hear the whip of the fabric flying through the air. I watched him sit up awkwardly without moving his leg. The pulsing pain through my calf was making it difficult to even breathe. Was it worse than childbirth? Probably not. But it _hurt_.

And it was all because a few years ago, some asshole had snapped that leg. It had never been completely the same again.

"Jesus Christ, your foot looks deformed," Peter said, somewhat disgustedly.

"Don't touch it!"

"Shh, be quiet. You'll wake the dead."

"You can't sleep and don't you dare touch my leg!"

Peter sighed exasperatedly. He bent the arch of my foot, and he wiggled my big toe.

The pulsing pain alleviated immediately, and then it faded away. I moaned out in relief, but the tightness and the ache still remained.

Peter twisted his leg out of the both of mine and started rubbing and massaging my calf very carefully.

"Oh, God. Thank you. Thank you.."

Peter laughed under his breath. I took my head out of the pillow I had grasped onto and looked up at him. He was looking at my leg while he rubbed it. His hair had been brushed, the daylight highlighted the golden blond in his light brown tresses. Sunlight filtering in made his skin look more honed, more polished.

I looked out the window squinting at the bright sunlight lighting up the trees and the very blue sky.

I ran my fingertips over some of the scars on the left side of his alabaster back. They were somewhat gray, and I wondered if they would glimmer in the sunlight. There was a faint line running around his shoulder. Not very noticeable unless you looked for it, but jagged and torn.

His arm. He had lost his arm when they killed Charlotte.

Peter squeezed my calf, and I flinched. He laughed.

"Quit laughing, it hurts." I reached up, and traced part of the line with my fingers.

Peter's smile faded, only somewhat. "You could have scared the shit out of me if I were still human. For a second I thought you were having a fit because you forgot where you were."

He looked at me, another smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He grimaced all of a sudden and looked a little concerned.

"I don't mean to be rude, but you really look like shit. You look like you don't feel good."

I couldn't even begin to chastise him for his frankness, because I really did feel like shit. I threw my head into the pillow, groaning. My throat was very dry and my voice was thick with sleep. My mouth was a slight shade of nasty. I had a dull ache in my left forearm. My ribs hurt a little bit too.

Even though I had completely recovered from James' attack over four years ago, my body still reacted to anything new. And sex with Peter was completely new. And wonderful. Erotic. Mind blowing. Perfect.

In truth, making love with Peter made my body hurt in all the right places, minus the calf and the ribs.

Peter laid back down and twisted my head out of the pillow. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. Red eyes stared back at with me with love and adoration.

He leaned into kiss me.

I twisted my neck and buried my head back into the pillow. "Don't. I have morning breath."

"Bella," he said in a exasperated tone. I felt his head press into the pillow, next to mine.

I moved my head slightly to the left, and peeked out. Mr. Patient and Intent was waiting. His eyes soft.

How clearly I could see myself in them.

His face was close enough to mine that all I had to do was lift my chin a little. Peter caught my lips. He lazily deepened it while wrapping his arms around me as I shifted back onto my side. Warmth settled inside my belly. His touch still charged my skin; and my ears started to ring. I brushed the sensations off as a never ending effect he had on my body. It was the way he dazzled me.

He pulled away, smiling ever so slightly.

"Good morning," I whispered to him, while running my thumb over his nipple. My own were feeling a little sensitive along side his cold chest.

"Good Morning to you. You slept well," He mumbled out. Peter had closed his eyes. I reached up to trace the faint blue shadow underneath his right eye. If I hadn't known he was a vampire, you could have sworn I had just woke him up. He looked like a vampire who just got laid after a twenty one year old dry spell.

I felt his hard length twitch against my stomach. My mind and my body heated up and flushed just thinking about him inside me. The pulsing friction; the way he filled me. He breathed in deeply through his nose.

"I did. I have you to thank for that. Did you stay with me all night?"

"Nope. I got up earlier to go read the paper because you were driving me nuts. The fucking paper boy was late this morning, though. So I took a shower, drew for a little bit, and _then_ I crawled back in bed to wake you up. It's about nine-thirty now."

Such a human response. Peter started running his hand through my hair and he gave me a sweet little peck.

"Why was I driving you nuts?" I asked.

Peter groaned. "Well, between that sweet spot between your legs and your snoring, I couldn't decide if I wanted to smother you with a pillow or wake you up and fuck your brains out."

"I don't snore." I pinched his nipple, as hard as I could.

"Oooh," he said as wrapped his arms around me to pull me to him. I winced. A sharp, quick pain traveled through my ribs.

Peter opened his eyes; he raised his eyebrows as he loosened his arms around me. I wanted him to hold me tight, so I squeezed my body in closer.

"Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better. Does your leg hurt that bad?"

I groaned. "No, it's my ribs. All my old war injuries seem to be flaring up. It's probably because I got jostled around at the amusement park. And had sex with you."

He gave me a questioning look. "War injuries, huh? Just what exactly did that James do to you?"

I sighed. Thinking about that time I got thrown around like a paperweight was something I didn't like to think about. I had nightmares every once in a blue moon about it. Talking about it or thinking about it just seemed to create them.

"Oh, he tossed me around a ballet studio. He couldn't dance for shit, though. He punched me in the chest, broke four of my ribs, broke my leg, and punched me in the face. It took me awhile to recover."

Peter just stared at me, his eyes hardening. "I'll bet. Did Edward kill him?"

"No. He was busy sucking out the venom after James bit me. Emmett and Jasper killed him. I didn't see it. I was unconscious."

Peter was silent for a moment. He nodded minutely. "That's good. I'm glad he was there for you."

Something in his quiet tone told me he wasn't talking about Edward. "You miss him?Don't you?"

He gave a quick nod and kissed my cheek. "Yeah. Let's talk about it later," Peter mumbled. He shifted somewhat, moving closer so he could look right into my eyes. "Let me ask you something. What's your plans for the rest of the weekend?"

I thought about that for a moment, becoming more intrigued with the idea of maybe spending some more time with Peter. I was only going to do what I normally did, which was clean, go shopping, work on my garden, and work on schoolwork. I didn't really need to go shop, and I didn't have schoolwork anymore.

"Not much. I was just going to hang around the house this weekend, clean and maybe work on my garden. Why do you ask?"

He paused, licked his lips and shrugged his massive shoulders. "I don't want to pressure you or anything, but stay here this weekend. Stay with me. I've got a couple hours worth of work to do, but there's plenty of things around here to keep you occupied. Maybe we could walk the trail later tonight or something. Or better yet, if you need to feed your habit, you can clean _my_ house. My housekeeper got sick. This place hasn't been dusted for a few months." He started laughing. He couldn't stop.

The _bastard._

"You asshole. Clean your own house." He continued to chuckle to himself and caress the length of my spine.

"Hey, I do," He said defensively, yet in a mocking way. "I dust and I mop and I run a vacuum; I just don't like to. That's woman's work," he said. The corners of his mouth twitched.

He was just trying to get a rise out of me. "You dust around everything instead of picking things up, don't you?"

"Yep," He chuckled.

"That's a goddamn _sin._"

"Then stay here and show me how to do it right. Stay _here_, Bella. Spend the weekend with me. We can stay in bed. We can watch TV. We can stay in bed. It'll be good for you. You can relax and you can stand for a little TLC. Say yes, Bella." He cooed.

I had every intention of saying yes, the idea of staying the weekend at Peter's to make love with him and maybe just partaking in some mind blowing sex was extremely enticing. Plus I could get to know more about him. Plus I could watch a little Discovery on the side. We could cuddle. We could have more sex.

And I _could_ clean his fucking house, and go through his things. He had been through my garbage. He had been watching _me_. Turn about was fair play.

"But I don't have my toothbrush, or any clothes."

"You won't need them." He sighed and grimaced. He looked a little embarrassed.

"I went shopping the other day. I already bought everything you'd need in case I ever got you over here unplanned. You've got a toothbrush. You've got toothpaste. You've got a hairbrush and you've even got shampoo. Plus, I've stocked the fridge and the pantry and you can wear _my_ clothes. It's not like anyone is gonna see you. Say yes, Bella."

He had planned to get inside my britches all along. I couldn't be mad.

He kissed me languidly, deepening it slowly. He explored my grimy ass teeth, and groaned quietly as his hand traveled down my neck, and to my chest. He palmed my right breast.

His hand continued it's route down to my belly as he kissed along my jawline. He left trails of fire laced with ice, and moved his hand down between my legs. I moaned when he hit the spot; his lips were back on mine.

Peter started working me over with his thumb when I opened my thighs for him. He broke our kiss and slowly trailed kisses down my jaw, onto my neck. He started to work into my opening with his finger; and I flinched. It was tender. I was sore. Peter stopped and pulled back. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed.

"Damn, I am _so_ not getting any this morning. And that is _not _a war wound."

I groaned exasperatedly. Aggravated because my body didn't want to cooperate with what I wanted this morning. "I'm a little tender, that's all. I still want you."

He pulled the arm I was laying on free, and propped himself up while looking at me intently. "I want you, too, but your body needs a break right now. Are you gonna stay with me? I'll take you home Monday morning. That'll give you plenty of time to clean, do what you need to do..."

I smiled at him. "Yeah, I'll stay with you. Can I take a bath in your tub?"

He nodded. "Of course. You stay here, and I'll get it ready for you. I'll cook you breakfast while you take a bath."

"You can really cook?"

He looked offended. "Yeah, I cook. I used to watch Rachel Ray. I had a crush on her. Until I heard she was just another diva who wouldn't let her audience members show more skin then she did. I'll go draw your bath and lay your stuff out."

I laughed.

Peter gave me a quick kiss before getting out of bed. I watched him as he grabbed a pair of dark red flannel pajama bottoms hanging around the bottom right post of the bed, and I watched him put them on before he walked into the bathroom.

He threw me a sly grin, knowing I was looking at him.

I wasn't just looking at him. I was admiring every part of him.

Muscles, scars, large arms, and pale skin. And Peter had the nicest ass I had ever seen. Round, firm, and perfect for just running your hands over. Long legs with thick thighs; and nice long and firm calves. As thick as he was, he still looked like he had the strong legs of a runner.

How fortunate I was to have met Peter. Peter was all man on the outside, and so very kind and gentle on the inside. The respect he showed me; the equality he treated me with even though he was much more of a superior being was something I didn't take lightly.

Sure he was a little manipulative, but he went about it smoothly. He was sweet, intelligent, considerate, attentive, and easy to talk to.

I liked the way he would look at me. I liked the way he touched me, outside and inside. He was the right blend of strength and gentleness. Peter made me feel beautiful. I felt like I was enough, for him.

I wormed my way awkwardly out of the bed. It was set up high, but I realized I liked it that way. It was easy to get out of, and I loved the bed. Intricate patterns of grooves in the headboard and in the posts looked as if they were hand carved, and each groove stood alone. The dressers and the nightstands - one on each side - all matched; and the pieces were stained a rich, warm cherry. But it wasn't lacquered. The pieces were rustic and old world.

The walls were painted a very light taupe, and the molding and trim-work painted white. The plaster look liked it had been hand troweled. The floor underneath the kaleidoscope carpet was a wide plank wood flooring, stained with a deep, rich brown.

I walked over to the wide six drawer dresser underneath the vast window, when I heard a faint tinkling sound. On top of the dresser was Peter's halo creator. A stained, glass, miniature wind chime that hung from a silver stand. There was a birdhouse surrounded by flowers with two bluebirds in flight at the top; Peter's halo created by the weight holding the clapper. It was a ring of blue, stained glass woven around silver. Air from a vent or a draft from the window was making it sway and tinkle quietly.

"You know, the public trail is up on that next ridge. Anyone walking on it can look down and see your tits through that window. Quite a few retired folks live up here, Bunny. You'll give guy a coronary."

Peter had come out of the bathroom and had walked over to a small walk in closet. He took a white shirt off a hanger just inside the door.

"Well then maybe he'll die happy."

Peter walked over to the tall dresser in the corner and took out something else. It looked like a pair of blue flannel pajama pants. I took a deep breath, trying to muster up some bravery. I walked over to him and watched his eyes look me over.

"I do. You kill me every time I look at you. Sure you don't wanna walk around the house naked?"

That was so sweet. "Nope. It's a little chilly in here."

He eyed my breasts. "I can tell. I..I turned the heat off a little early, it's supposed to warm up today."

Peter was so cute when he stammered, and he was looking at me like I was something to eat, which was one hell of a pleasant thought. The man's tongue could probably touch the bottom of his chin.

"I'm going to go take my bath."

"I'm gonna go cook your breakfast. How do you want your eggs? Over easy?" His eyes had darkened a little, and I saw him twitch in his pants. It was hard trying to keep a straight face. Peter handed me his clothes.

"That's fine."

"Okay." He walked out of the room rather quickly, shaking his head. I giggled.

"I heard that!" He yelled from somewhere inside the house. I giggled again. Goddamn, what was happening to me?

I took a look at the clothes he had given me. The white shirt was thin, made out of some sort of silk. It buttoned up and the sleeves were long. It was the shirt he was wearing the very first night I ever saw him. The pajama pants he had given me were going to be big, but I could tighten the drawstring to keep them from falling off.

Would it be so bad if they did? I didn't think so, not with the way he looked at me.

I walked into the bathroom. Last night I had seen it, but had been too tired to really appreciate it. The white porcelain toilet was immediately on the left as soon as you walked in. The floor was covered with sandstone tile, with thick neutral brown bathroom rugs in front of the shower, the tub, and the vanity. A thick, marble counter-top sat over a long vanity with plenty of drawer and cupboard space. It was brushed and stained with an antique beige, giving it a rustic look. A large, lighted and mirrored medicine cabinet hung above the sink. Rustic sconces with the sunset over the desert covered the light fixtures.

The tub was to the right of the vanity, and sat in the architectural curve of the house. A corner whirlpool sat high off the floor; which probably made it easy to slip into. The other wall was a window, and the view of the forest across the Sangre De Christo range was beautiful.

The shower was on the left, and I stepped inside the large, black glass door. It was square, an larger than my walk in closet at home. The walls and the floor was made out of honed, rainbow hued rock that looked like it came out of the belly of a mountain. There was a large seat in the corner built out of the stone. Two large shower heads set high in the wall, and controlled by the one set of chrome handles inside the shower.

It would wash your backside and your front all at the same time.

A bar of Ivory soap with a bottle of Suave For Men, sat inside the chiseled out space in the corner of the shower. The walls were still wet from Peter's shower. The faint scent of his soap and his shampoo still lingered. His towel still damp that laid across the bar inside.

I don't know why I liked that so much.

The double faucet tub was filled nearly to the brim and filled with bubbles. I turned it off. I took the opportunity to have a human moment before walking over to the tub and stepping inside. The water was hot, but perfect. I twisted the knob on for the jets. Seats were built in, and there was one on each end. The bottom curved up and I sat back along the attached bath pillow.

I wasn't just in love with him, I was in love with his bathroom.

There was a metal basket on the ledge by the window. There was a bottle of Suave Strawberry Shampoo plus a bottle of Vanilla conditioner. Inside the basket was a bottle of soap, bubble bath, and lotion, too. Along with a Venus razor.

Boy, he really did think of everything.

The bottle of soap, lotion, and bubble bath was all from Bath And Body Works. Aromatherapy, Black Currant Vanilla. The label caught my eye.

_'Put love in the air. Black Currant Absolute inspires heightened sensuality. Vanilla Absolute soothes to instill feelings of comfort.' _

The back of the bottle of soap said, '_Breathe deeply.'_

It was Viagra for women in the form of soap, lotion, and bubble bath. What Peter didn't know was I didn't need any help, but it smelled wonderful. I would stop at the mall this week and pick them all up. It was so evident that he chose with care and to his liking.

I sat back, and just took all of it in, and tried not to think about how fast it was all moving.

While breathing deeply.

After a nice, long soak, I made quick work out of washing my hair with the glass pitcher sitting on the ledge. I shaved my legs and underarms; even one day's worth of growth was not aloud in my new found relationship with Peter.

He had laid out a lighter blue towel for me, and I hung it up on the free bar standing by the vanity, after I dried off.

When I looked in the mirror, I groaned. On the right side of my neck was a hickey the size of a kiwi fruit. It was blue and purple. When I leaned up close to the mirror, I could see tiny spots where the blood was right at the surface. It couldn't be covered even with my best concealer.

I was marked. I could easily say I tripped and fell into a doorknob. Or, I could say a vampire tried to suck the blood out of my neck without biting me.

The truth always worked.

On the counter-top was a brand new toothbrush with a tube of Crest. There was also a wide-toothed comb and a wire brush along with a hairdryer. On the ride side of the vanity was a deep drawer that was slightly ajar. I pulled it open. Inside was the rest of the pack of Venus razors in a metal caddy, another hairbrush—this one was round, along with a package of stretchable cloth ponytail holders.

The same ones I used.

On the side of the sink, was a cobalt blue toothbrush holder and a small bathroom tumbler that matched. I brushed my teeth vigorously while combing my hair. I blew it dry and proceeded to put my stuff back in 'my' drawer.

I had a drawer. I shouldn't have liked that, as much as I did.

I only used the lotion on my legs. Too much was overpowering, and the stuff had a kick to it. When I walked out of the bathroom, I noticed the chest sitting at the bottom of the bed.

It was the only piece in the room that did not match the others. It was about five feet in length, and made out of Ponderosa Pine. The round bulbous top was intricately carved.

I stepped over for a closer look.

The scene carved into the top was a pond, surrounded by willows. Water grass shot up in sporadic intervals inside the pond. Rocks and long grass made up the shoreline. In the middle of the pond was a small ducking with it's wings spread out and back, the neck of the ducking hung low with it's head.

He was bowing, to the swan in front of him. Four times as big as the duckling, the swan looked at the duck, appraising him by the way it's head and neck gracefully arched down. The scene was painted and stained, giving it some color but not enough to take away the intricacy of the carving or taking away from the natural beautiful lineage of the wood.

It was beautiful. It was almost like the scene from the story, but a swan never took stock of the duckling. I tried to lift the lid to see what it held - thinking bed linens or personal mementos - but it was locked. The keyhole was in the middle of a carved heart on the front of the chest, it sat in the middle of a border of swans that wrapped around the chest.

I got dressed. The silk white shirt left little to the imagination, it was very thin and I wanna bet he chose it for that purpose. I rolled up the sleeves, and left the top three buttons undone. The pajama pants were huge and long, but I tightened the drawstring, folded over the waist, and rolled up the legs. The legs still dragged along the floor but at least I could see my feet. I followed the scent of bacon and hash browns out the door.

The hallway was small, wide, and it curved from the left to the right. Peter's room was on the end of the house. There was another bedroom half way down the hall on the right. There was a queen size bed but the room was not used. It was decorated sparsely but the tops of the dressers were bare.

The ceiling of the hallway was covered with vigas and latillas, the walls another shade of taupe. They were trimmed with natural wood molding that matched the light oak of the vigas; and they held a couple pieces of southwestern art. Nothing priceless, they were just normal pieces you could find down at the plaza or along the tourist market along the border. The floor was sienna and adobe brown concrete, making it look like marble, but it was not slick.

I could smell and hear the bacon and potatoes frying in the skillet before I even stepped out of the hallway. The kitchen was large and in the shape of a upside down and backwards L. There was a D-shaped kitchen island that served as the eating area, and the living room beyond that. The space was unreal.

It was completely open, and probably twice as big as my entire house. The ceiling was the same as the hallway, vaulted and adorned with large oak beams, vigas and latillas. Peter was at the stove, his back towards me. He was stirring hash browns in a skillet. He hadn't put a shirt on, and his pajama pants were loose around his own hips.

I stepped into the kitchen, which of course was beautiful. The stove was encased inside a stone hearth with two silver metal shelves inside filled with pots, skillets, and a Talavera pot full of utensils. It had a red punched metal splash back. The fan and lighting was somewhere hidden behind the stone wall above the stove. The cabinets were stained and varnished a natural oak, and the doors were covered with carved blooming hollyhocks. The floor in the kitchen was wide plank wood flooring.

"You smell good," Peter said quietly.

I walked into the kitchen and up behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I laid my head against his back and pressed into him. "Thank you. I'm in love with your bathroom. And I think your kitchen, too. You built this?"

Peter chuckled. "I knew you would like it." He put down his spatula and turned around in my arms.

"You look better, too. How do you feel?" He kissed my forehead lightly, lingering while running his fingers through my hair.

"Much better. My calf's a little tight, but it'll work itself out. I like the shirt." I gave him the evil eye. He leaned back and I pinched the thin my fabric on my chest.

Peter leaned further back and his eyes widened. His face was covered in a mischievous grin, and his eyes were on my tits. "I like it too, it looks _so_ much better on you."

"I remember it, you know. That's how I knew what you were that first night I saw you. Your skin reacts badly in black light."

"Yeah, well you're so white, I thought for just a moment that _you_ were a vampire, until I saw your eyes and I smelled you. I'd been watching you for about a half hour before you finally looked at me. Of course, your ran away like a chicken shit. Your shoe...You..." Peter started to laugh.

"Shut up." I stood up on my tip toes and kissed him.

When I pulled away, he had quit laughing. He had a bittersweet smile on his face. "I followed you home with Debbie. I listened to what you said to her, and I listened to you cry while you locked your doors and checked your windows. For a moment, I thought I'd put your mind at ease and come talk to you, but I knew that would make things worse. Now you're in my house.." He didn't finish; and his eyes were soft.

I remember it all. I was happy though that he didn't find my attempt to keep him out funny. At the time, it really wasn't.

We stood there and stared at each other for a moment, before Peter jumped and turned back to the stove.

"You're gonna make me burn your breakfast."

I peaked around him. "What are you..Ohh," I breathed out. Peter was cooking me a skillet. A skillet breakfast with square hash browns, chopped up bacon, red and green peppers, onions, and fresh mushrooms. He had a little skillet setting behind the larger skillet with my eggs already cracked and ready to cook, along with a paper plate sitting on the side with cheese.

"Peter_.._" He was stirring up the potatoes, and all the goodies within.

"You're hungry, right?"

"I'm starving."

He put down the spatula on a spoon rest, turned and walked over to a cupboard by the sink. "I made you coffee. There's creamer in the fridge, sugar's next to the coffee and the spoons are in the first drawer underneath the pot." He handed me a mug.

"Can I do anything?" Peter was back at the stove, turning the burner on low.

"Yeah, you can get the hell out of my kitchen. Have a look around. Mi casa es su casa, so make yourself at home. And feel free to clean at your leisure. I had to clean the kitchen, the dust was thick." He had added the last part about cleaning his kitchen, lowly.

I laughed him off and made my coffee. He was right, though. He had wiped the counters down; but I caught a layer of dust underneath the coffee pot. I looked at the different Talavera pottery sitting on top of the cupboards, along with various pieces of blue and clear bubble glass. There were two, high, oak chairs sitting on the other side of the kitchen island.

I walked around to the other side. The space was completely open between the kitchen area and the living room. There was a unique structural curve built into everything; even the floor. The living room was one step down off the curve from the kitchen; where once again, the floor turned into honed concrete. The northeast wall was almost completely made of glass. You could see across the Ponderosa and Pinion forest into Santa Fe; and the Jimez Mountains were in the distance. The sky was blue and the only clouds in the sky were high. They looked like feathers.

The patio was expansive; and covered with a rich brown, high polished concrete. There was a neutral brown, deep cushioned wooden patio set underneath the beamed and viga ceiling. Off to the right was an oval hot tub. You could watch the sunset over the Jimez from the hot tub. I've seen them enough from my own home to know it would be even more breathtaking from up here.

Off center in the living room, stood an intricate stone kiva fireplace. It was large and in the front of the fireplace was a thick dark red and brown rug, adorned with vast amounts of huge red and dark orange pillows. The living area set adjacent to that. What was probably a sixty inch flat screen hung from the stone wall above the fireplace. There was a large, deep red sectional with large billowy cushions and a chaise at one end. A dark brown leather recliner sat beside the sectional.

It was the chair he sat in to watch TV. It looked a little more than worn. The bottom cushion was a little sunken in.

There was dark cherry end tables and a large round coffee table with a glass center. The shaded lamps on the end tables were made of rustic wrought iron. The entry way lay on the opposite wall of the window wall, two curved openings led into a small foyer with large oak double doors. You had to step up inside the foyer. The floor was concrete, and the foyer had a couple of equipal chairs made out of pigskin. A small table held a cordless phone, and a clear bubble glass bowl where Peter stuck his keys. There was a heated mat that held a couple pairs of hiking boots, and the shoes Peter and I wore last night.

The far east side of the living room was wonderful, and a little overwhelming at the same time. There were a couple wide doors that I didn't bother to look in, but the far wall had large, dark cherry bookcases. Hundreds of books filled the shelves. Classics, very few modern romances, fiction, and non fiction. Bibliographies and journals. U.S. History, and several books on the Civil War. From Pride and Prejudice to Catcher In the Rye. From Stephen King to John Sanford, Tami Hoag, and Patricia Cornwell. And finally, Hans Christian Anderson. Peter must have owned every book that owned the story.

Close to the corner of the window wall, was what could only be described as Peter's office. Two large drafting tables that angled were set up. There was skylights above the makeshift library and above his work area. The shelves underneath his drafting tables were just covered in..crap. What looked like manuals, boxes of rolled up blueprints, drawings, piles of sketch paper, and all sorts of drafting tools.

There was some type of machine that looked like a long and large printer pushed up against a portion of the wall. Rulers, straight edges, cups of pens, pencils and chalk covered the drafting tables. There was even a utility cart filled to the brim with things I've never seen before. In between the drafting tables on another flat utility table was two, flat screen monitors for Peter's computer. One singular high back swivel chair stood between the two tables. By the window wall, was three aluminum easels set up with large colored sketches with what looked like rooms inside a large cabin.

It was a cluster fuck of an office, and in great need of a thorough cleaning. Even though he took the color brown to the extreme, the house didn't scream with masculinity. There was enough use of color to balance it out.

"Bella, come eat."

It took me a good ten seconds to walk back to the kitchen area. The house, as large as it was though, felt comfortable. It wasn't immaculate, and it would really be a bitch to clean, but it felt strong. It felt like a home.

Peter had my plate waiting, and he had even put the eggs on top off my potatoes. He was in the double door chrome fridge pouring a glass of orange juice. I sat down in front of my plate as he put my glass down.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Peter took my coffee cup, got inside the fridge, and took out a new bottle of ketchup and Tabasco sauce. He set them down in front of me. He proceeded to fill up my coffee, add a little cream, and a spoonful of sugar.

He _had_ to have been peaking in some windows. I remained silent as I fixed up my plate and Peter buttered the toast that popped up.

Peter sat down on my left with the Santa Fe Reporter in hand. He gave me the metro and lifestyle pages and kept the front and sports pages for himself. I broke my yolks over the potatoes, shifted my eggs to one side of the plate, and poured some more Tabasco sauce over my cheesy hash browns.

I tried to eat slow when all I wanted to do was just shove it all in. I was starving.

It was comfortably silent for a few minutes as he read the first three pages of the front page and I read about another stabbing five blocks from the club.

"Chrysler finally filed for bankruptcy," Peter said out of the blue.

"Saw that happening when the government stepped in. I heard yesterday GM's going to drop some twenty three thousand jobs by this time next year. What else is new in the world?" I asked. I took another bite of toast.

"Not much. Flooding in the north. Palin's daughter broke up with her baby daddy. Swine flu claimed its first U.S victim, and you probably have the most _stablest_ job out there right now. By the end of a weak trading day, layoffs and no sales in the real estate market, everyone could use a stiff drink. But hey, the Kentucky Derby's on at five today." He said in a positive way.

He was looking at the sport's page. The list of horses running in the race. Next to that was their strength, the weaknesses, and the odds.

"I know. I just scanned an article about one of the horses running. I'll go with the long shot. What's his name?"

"There's six with fifty to one odds. You want pick out the one who has the prettiest jersey?" He asked sarcastically.

"Screw _you..._" I glowered at him.

"You already did," he chuckled out quietly. He was quiet for a moment while he gave me a daring look. "Wanna make a bet?"

I finished chewing while we stared each other down. "What kind of bet? Money?"

He thought about it for a moment. "Nope, better than money. And were not picking winners here. Long shots. Whosoever choice places closer to first, wins. If the horse scratches, the bet's off. Odds have to be thirty to one and above. I'll let you pick first."

"What are we betting?"

He had an evil grin on his face, and a glint in his eye. He swiveled in his chair to face me, while grabbing mine to turn it to face him. He leaned in close; really close, to where our noses were just brushing.

"Okay, pretty lady," He said lowly, deeply. I swallowed hard. "If I win, you have to stay the next weekend you're off with me. And you have to clean my house."

The cool breath from his mouth washed over me; turning me putty. The heat in my lower belly ignited.

Then I thought about what he said.

"You, shit. You're actually serious about me cleaning your house, aren't you?"

He smiled and laughed quietly. "Yes. And there's another stipulation. You have to stay with me, and clean the house..naked. Plus..."

"_Plus_ what?"

He smiled big. "I get a blow job."

I couldn't help it, I broke out in laughter. The hope and the mischief in his eyes was actually rather endearing. Peter was laughing because I was, but he was completely serious. I straightened myself out and tried to steel my face.

"Okay. But if I win, you have to stay with me, and clean my house naked. And you have to do it at human speed, no flitting or running allowed. Plus, you have to pick everything up when you dust. Oh, and I need an oil change. But I'll buy the filter and the oil. And there's a board in the hallway that needs fixed. And you have to rub my feet every night after I get off work."

He was quiet for a moment, while he stared into my eyes. "That's not really a winner's reward. I'd do those things, anyway. Except for the cleaning part. How many nights?"

I smiled at him, thinking that when it was time to head back to work, I'd end up missing him, a lot. "Three. I go back to work Monday for my long week, so my next weekend off."

He grinned. "Deal. Should we shake on it?" He pulled back, and held out his hand. I took it and shook it.

"It's a bet. But I'd have given you a blow job without it."

The grin fell. "Well you still can if you..."

"Oh no, smart ass. A bet's a bet. Now you can just think about what could have been." I smiled triumphantly.

Peter gave me the sports page and showed me where to find the stats and the horses I could pick from. There was a small analysis for each horse, and I studied them thoroughly. It was the only thing I could understand. We read together in silence while I finished my breakfast. Peter wasn't looking at the Metro page that had the article about the horse that lived and trained in New Mexico. The horse was a long shot with fifty to one odds in the derby. The article in the metro, however, said the horse ran well in wet and muddy conditions. His name was Mine That Bird, and he was in the eighth spot. The article in the sports page said the track would be sloppy.

"Does it matter where the horse is when it runs out of the gate?" I asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "It could. The horses closer to the rail get the quickest spot along the rail, as long as they come out of the gate good. The further they're out, the more distance they have to run. Some horses do well on the outside, though. You got a choice yet?"

I ate all of my breakfast and I finished off my orange juice. "Yep. I want Mine That Bird. He's number eight."

Peter was trying not to grin. "Why did you pick him?" He asked.

"Well, he's closer to the gate in the number eight spot. Plus the tracks supposed to be sloppy today, and the article in the metro said he runs well in wet and muddy conditions."

Peter grabbed the metro and read through it quickly. He wasn't smiling. "Yeah, but he's only run two races this year, and his record from last year was sporadic. He only had one first place finish, and that was in '08. Why not pick a horse with thirty to one odds? None of them will fucking win but a couple are promising to finish decently. They've got a more stable track record."

I stood up picking up my dishes. I walk around the island to the sink. I didn't really pay attention to the stats in past races, and I completely forgot about the horses with thirty to one odds. I wasn't about to change my mind. I wanted to play fair. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed like he wanted me to win.

"I'll stick with Mine That Bird." I ran the dishwater. "And a bet's a bet. You shouldn't be trying to help me. My house might not be as big, but it's still a bitch to clean."

Peter reached into the cupboard underneath the sink and pulled out a dish drainer.

When he looked at me, he was completely serious and displaying a little attitude. "Oh, I'm not helping you. I _really_ want your lips around my dick. I'm just surprised you didn't go with the sure thing. West side Bernie has thirty to one odds and is on the rail in the number one spot. Plus in his trial run, he placed third out of forty six."

I had completely missed that. I didn't know shit about horse racing, but it was obvious Peter did.

"You take him, then." I mumbled out.

Peter fell silent and stilled. I looked up at him. He had a daring look on his face. "I am, and I'm going to win. Frankly, you'll need a miracle to win this bet." He pulled the faucet over to his side of the sink and ran the rinse water.

I scrubbed at the plate ferociously.

"Bite me." I mumbled out. _Stupid, beautiful, kielbasa dick vampire._

Peter didn't still again, but I felt him brush the hair back on my left side. When I looked up he was already leaning in to my neck, and I froze. So did he. He was looking at me very intently; and his eyes darkened. He moved in even slower, until his nose hit my jaw line. Peter's tongue came out, and licked the skin from my jaw to my neck.

It was quick, but I was suddenly in his arm, and dangling off the floor. His left hand pulled my head back firmly by my hair. He was at my neck, licking the skin along my jugular, and he was growling.

"What are you doing?"

He jerked me quiet, and growled out short. It didn't hurt, but his arm was tight around me. I couldn't move.

I couldn't breathe at all. I felt fear for the first time when I felt his teeth very lightly skimming the surface of my neck, until he came to the base. To my pulse point.

Peter froze. His mouth was open, and I could feel his cold breath along my neck.

I started to pant.

He laid a light kiss on my neck.

"Gotcha."


	12. Chapter 11 PATWAP Part II

Chapter 11. Pledging Away The Weekend At Peter's

Part II: Pony up.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A**

"That's bullshit, Matt. Building code down there requires a ten pound bottom cord live load. If you're a contract engineer in Florida, you damn well better be building the trusses up to code."

Right in the midst of my vampire lover doing my body some good, some asshole named Matt called and put an abrupt end to our make out session by the kitchen sink. I hadn't even had the chance to chastise him for his little 'game'.

I wasn't trying to listen, but it would have been very difficult to ignore the conversation taking place. Because Peter, as sweet and wonderful as he was, was one pissed off vampire.

I was washing the dishes. The mood was killed by talk about building codes, trusses, and some dick head trying to put the screws to Peter, I surmised. Though he was pissed, he spoke professionally and authoritatively. Most of the time. He was sitting on top of the island watching me. My back was to him, but I could feel it.

"Oh, really? Well you tell that limp, dick motherfucker that the _architect_ didn't make a fucking mistake, because he _put_ the proper goddamn loads into the specs because the houses are being built in Southern Florida. Not. Fucking. Gainesville!"

I take that back. Professionalism was not one of Peter's strong points, it seemed. When I took a quick look back at back at him, he had been flinging his arms and hands around with a scrunched up right shoulder holding a cordless phone to his ear.

I was starting to feel sorry for this Matt guy, it was obvious he would be the one educating some limp dick motherfucker.

Maybe though, this was a good thing. I'm sure if Peter had to do it, some limp dick motherfucker just might gotten his head bit off.

Literally.

I knew it was a serious matter, but somehow I was finding hard to refrain from smiling over something that really just wasn't humorous. Peter was just so expressive.

All of a sudden it grew very quiet.

"I'll tell you what. You email me back all the developments and I'll rerun the specs. Then _I'll_ send them to Parker and _he_ can build them. Then you have Josh take those fuckers back to Wielly, and drop them off on the front, fucking doorstep of his _house_. Then you call Mary, and have her sue that fucker for breach of contract." Peter's voice had grown eerily calm. Too calm.

As upset as he was, he did manage to suppress from growling. At one point, he took the phone away from his ear so he could do just that. Peter was not happy, at all.

But that was some hot shit.

I went over to clean off the grease spatter on top of the stove.

"Because, Matt! The fucker's asking for a hundred and twenty grand just to have them brought up to code! If we take the fuckers back and I sue the bastard, I'll only lose court costs plus the overhead I have to pay Parker! At least I know his work will be good! Hell, tell Mary to add on mental fucking anguish or some shit like that."

He was livid again. Peter's lips were parted and the corners of his mouth were turned down into a frown. Maybe it was a good thing Matt was on the other side, because Peter's left hand was gripping the marble counter-top so hard, it was making the tendons in his hands stick out. I hoped he wasn't about to break it. It was a very nice counter-top.

"Yes I _can,_" Peter sang out in a sing-song voice, although he sounded extremely irritated. He was glaring at the floor. "His motherfucking contract states right on line twenty that the fucker is responsible for proper upper, lower, live, and _dead_ loads. I read the fucking thing."

Oh, shit. He growled.

"Well, five twenty five's better than five fifty two, don't ya think? No...No...No, you know what? It's done. I'm not gonna deal with that son of a bitch if he can't follow the specs. No...No... Just send them to me and I'll have them to Parker by tonight, one week won't kill anybody." A pause. "Yeah, I'm serious, do it!" Another pause. "Yeah, okay. Bye."

The phone lived.

I scrubbed back and forth over a clean spot on the stove and gave him a just a moment to collect himself.

"So, what happened? Do you want to talk about it, or no?" I asked him softly. Peter was still sitting on the island, rubbing his eyes with both hands like he was tired.

He pulled his hands away and plopped them down in his lap. He smiled, but it was replaced by a frown.

"Well, that was Matt Wyskowski. He's a building head down in Florida for a project I'm consulting on. I designed twelve houses for a Sweetwater, Florida development. This new contractor he hired to develop the trusses for the roofs didn't follow code and wants to rip me off for another hundred and twenty grand to fix the trusses because he fucked up; and he thinks we're stupid enough to pay him to do it. Well, I'm not. And I'm gonna sue the bastard." He spoke so quickly and harshly it was hard to catch the words.

"So, what are going to do?"

He sighed thoughtfully, looking at a space on the floor, before he brought his eyes up to mine. "I'm gonna use a guy I normally do business with, and have him build the trusses instead. His bid was about eighty grand higher to begin with, but his work's good. He follows directions and if he fucks up...which he doesn't, he guarantees his work and he fixes his mistakes. But first I need to rerun the specs because I gave Matt the originals, and he gave them to Weilly."

He winced. "Goddammit. I shouldn't have let Matt do that. I should have told him to use Parker to begin with."

"Go with what you know?" I asked

"Exactly."

I wasn't sure if this ruined our plans for spending time together this weekend, so I asked, "So, um...How long will it take you to do it?"

He shrugged and gave a look that looked like a brush off. "Not long. Three or four hours at the most. I'll try and get it done today, before the race starts. I'd like to get them done so I can get them off to Parker so the contractor's not delayed by too much." He looked a little pensive now, his anger gone.

I walked over to him, and he spread his legs so I could step between them. I rubbed his thighs and kissed him firmly on his chest. "It's fine. You were planning on working on something else anyway, right? Take all the time you need. I'll keep myself entertained while you work. Hell, maybe I'll even clean your house."

Peter chuckled once and wrapped his large arms around me and behind my back to pull me closer. He let out a throaty groan. "Thank You. But it _pisses_ me off. I wanted to be the one to entertain you."

He leaned down slowly, looking deeply into my eyes while he kissed me. Repressed aches were starting to come alive again so I pulled back and stepped away slowly with a satisfied smile. His was the same.

I twisted my lips around and bit my bottom while looking everywhere else but at him. "I think you should get to work. I'm...gonna take a walk outside and look around."

Peter first thought I needed to see the rest of the house. On the way to the doors by the bookshelves, we passed underneath one of the skylights. Even though the smoked glass blocked out some of the harsher rays, Peter was still cast momentarily into a glimmer.

For just a moment I became unsettled.

I think it was because I was so aware of Peter's human qualities that it cast the vampire traits to the back of my mind for a moment. Yes, Peter was a vampire; he looked like one and sometimes he acted like one. But the majority of the time he just seemed so human. He didn't rush around; and he didn't seem to think of himself as the higher being. Or if he did he hid it all so very well.

And even though I had witnessed some of the anger he was capable of when his patience was pushed, I had to look at the situations it came from. Billy the drunk, and the little confrontation we had on the mountain. And the rational, normal response any human male in Peter's position would have when it came to his line of work.

Peter embraced his work and loved what he did, you could tell. Plus he was all man.

One of the two doors on the other end by the library was another bathroom. It wasn't as elaborate as the master bathroom, it was small but designed somewhat the same. The other door led to the utility room; where he kept his washer and dryer, his vacuum, and all his brooms and mops. There was another door in the utility room that led to the garage.

It was a double garage capable of holding two cars, but this one was designed just to hold Peter's truck. The rest of the garage was used to build things.

He had an entire garage system with all the storage cupboards, roll-a-ways, trays, and caddies for holding stuff. Pegs held saws, blades, clamps, shop brooms, and hand planers. Shelves and brackets lined the far wall and were full of pieces of wood, two by fours, molding, and every chemical used for either treating wood or washing your truck. Paints, stains, thinners, he had everything.

The floor was covered with black resin. There was a large work table set up on sawhorses; and a partially finished cabinet sitting on top.

As nice as it was, it really needed a thorough cleaning. The floor was covered in sawdust. There was slivers of wood everywhere, along with sawed off ends of two by four's. And there wasn't a flat surface where there wasn't shit laying everywhere.

There was even the space he used to fix my shoes. Left over satin fabric, shoe clamps, glue, and a roll of black leather; along with some tools I had no names for.

"It's..er, nice. But it needs cleaned. How can you find anything?"

Peter scoffed and gave me a look. "You stay the hell out of my garage. I know where my shit is. I only brought you this way so you could move my truck in for me. I don't like leaving it out." He tossed me his car keys.

"Well since you asked so nicely_._"

He chuckled and pulled me forward, kissing me firmly on the lips. "Sorry. Just watch your step if you walk over by the ledge. I'm gonna get to work so I can spend the better part of the afternoon with you. If you need anything..."

"I'll ask. Go on. I'll be in a little bit."

After I moved Peter's truck into the garage, I walked around the front of the house first. Off to the northeast was a small storage building that probably held his mower and gardening tools. His front lawn was expansive with rich, green grass before the tree line. He lived at the end of the gravel road that led up the mountain. The house as long as it seemed inside, actually curved around the edge of the ridge it was built on, making it look smaller from the front. It was sienna brown in color, and a stone wall bricked in the front alcove.

Peter had a knack for Xeriscaping. There was borders and circles of sandstone, with built up flower beds. Perennials from violet clouds to lemon yellows, swallow tails to even what was called Agastache groupings of sweet flowers and herbs to attract butterflies and hummingbirds filled them. Large Terracotta pots held wild stripe tulips and blue pearls. South of the garage by the ridge line, was a much more larger butterfly garden and a small cast iron table set.

There was bird feeders and bird houses everywhere around the property. Wooden houses hung from tree branches; some attached to the trunks. Ceramic bird feeders designed like birds and budding flowers hung from trees, hooks, and stands in the middle of the vast butterfly garden. Lawn ornaments such as flower shaped hummingbird feeders, cast iron flying pigs, and clay bird baths accented the large garden. There was even a deer chaser rocking fountain made out of bamboo to keep the critters out. The misters were on, and they were shaped like butterflies. It was bird heaven and insect paradise.

I stayed outside for a little bit, just watching and listening to the sparrows, cardinals, and finches take advantage of the lush garden. I even saw a hummingbird. When the misters went off, I pulled weeds. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature was just perfect, and there was a light breeze coming in from the north.

It was hard to believe that just six days ago I hadn't wanted this man, this vampire to be a part of my life. What was more than a little disturbing, was history seemed almost to be repeating itself.

But maybe it wasn't. Because it felt like this time, I was in love for all the right reasons. If Peter put me on a goddamn pedestal wrapped in a snug, safety blanket, he sure had an indirect way of doing it. It was crazy, but even though I had just spent the night with him; and I was in fact, spending the entire weekend with him, Peter was someone who appreciated my personal space. It was like he knew when I needed some.

Compared to Edward, Peter was a fresh breath of air. If it had been Edward who saved me from a drunken Billy, I would have been followed around everyplace I went. I'd have been dropped off and picked up on the club's front doorstep the following night. Or nights. I wouldn't have been able to walk over to the ledge without holding his hand in fear that I might suffer a bout of clumsiness and fall off. And it would have been pointed out.

But with Edward, I had welcomed all those things. I had truly loved how much he coddled me, because it reflected how much he did love me. When our physical acts of intimacy were halted, he made up for it in so many other ways.

I would have suffocated now, because I was older. I took care of myself, and I had real responsibilities. I have more faith in myself, and a much better sense of self esteem. If I would have had all of this back then, I'd have told him to hell with my safety; and I would have ripped my fucking clothes off and dared him to turn away from me.

He would have. Because he still would have thought he knew what was best for the both of us. Edward never had faith in himself. He chose to live life as if he were cursed. Soulless.

I wasn't bitter anymore, and for a long time I was because of his words in the forest that day. And the pain I felt now, the ache in my chest that made me want to curl my arms around myself, was because of Peter. I was in love with him. If it ended suddenly like it had with Edward and Jake, I would fall apart again and let the numbness take me one more time.

I couldn't go through it again.

Most of my fear was because of how my relationship ended with Jacob. It had devastated me. I was more angry with myself then I was with him. I had always known he could have imprinted, and I set myself up for heartbreak. It took me a long time to admit to myself that the reality was that between Edward and Jacob's endings of relationships, Jacob's had hurt the most. He was my best friend.

Because there were no lies, there was only the truth and the truth I chose to ignore. My best friend - the one who I had planned my life around, who I had planned to have a family with, and live happily ever after by his side - was struck by a force in the universe I couldn't begin to comprehend. How easily it was for love to be cast aside.

Not that he cast aside his love for me completely. Of course he wanted the best of both worlds, and that's what he had been asking when he told me.

I would have never left Jacob. Not even if Edward would have come back. And when I was with Jacob, I never even hoped for it. I had figured out that summer, the love I shared with my best friend was so much more better than the love I shared with Edward. I had the best of both worlds. I had a friend that would always be there, a protector for my family, and someone who loved me and treated me like an equal.

It would have been Leah, Emily, and Sam all over again. And the truth was, It was no different than what I went through with Edward. I never really had a choice. It also left me with the realization that in fact, Jake was not human. Binding forces of the universe were something humans weren't privileged to have. We could just love with all our hearts.

As was the case with Peter. I had loved two boys, and was now in love with one hell of an incredible man who seemed to have the better qualities of the two combined. But the past had left me scarred. Old wounds were surfacing, and maybe they need to, so I didn't forget. So I could be prepared.

Eventually I was going to have to tell him about Jacob. And I was worried and scared to death how he would react once he heard about him. I knew it was stupid, the past was the past. Peter wouldn't hold it against me.

But I couldn't help but feel that he would think I had indeed lived up to my nickname. That I was a danger magnet. That I loved to live recklessly and I craved only the company of men who were more than mere mortals. It was stupid to think like that, and I was sure he would tell me that, when he knew.

It was stupid to be worried of what he would think. It was just stupid. But I worried, all the same.

***P*E*T*E*R***

That motherfucker Wielly should have considered himself pretty lucky I wasn't in the mood to fly or run down to Gainesville. Matt had given the guy a break and gave him a half a million dollar job; and he wanted to try and pull one over? On me? I had half the notion to stick that fucker on May's list of fast food and bump off Delasantos.

I could see the headlines in the paper already. _'Building contractor falls victim to gator attack two hundred and fifty miles away from his home in Gainesville. No one knows how he got there.'_

But Bella watched the news and read the fucking paper. Plus she was damn smart. She would have figured it out.

Having morals sometimes really sucked.

Either way, that son of a bitch was on my radar for the rest of his fucking life. All he had to do was fuck with some small company contractors and I would bite his motherfucking head off.

It was almost noon, and I couldn't get shit done. The reason being was Bella. She had come in from the garden, her heartbeat running a much more cooler seventy two. As opposed the ninety four beats per minute she was running outside.

She was twisting her hands together, and had a fake smile plastered on her face. Her eyes gave her away. Her pupils were dilated.

She had an anxiety attack. She had been thinking about Edward or Jacob. Maybe it was both. Either way, it was eating at my gut. Not because I didn't know or have an idea what brought it on, but because I didn't know how to broach the subject and wondered if I shouldn't push it.

They weren't unheard of. Bella's attacks were pretty mild and she probably never even thought that was what they were. But that's what they were. She might have been strong, but she wasn't superhuman.

I knew it was probably because of me she had been thinking about them, but it was still upsetting. Everything was moving too fast for her. The fear of being left alone again and losing someone she loved was there, and I wouldn't be able to convince her that I would never do that. But even if I managed to, that manifestation of physical pain would be something she'd have to deal with probably for the rest of her life.

Some things just never leave you no matter how badly you want it to.

You just can get over certain shit even though you've done your best and you've moved on whether you're human or vampire. It's in your memory. The heartbreak, the loss, and the pain. There isn't a shrink or a pill that could ever make it go away. You're just scarred. You can heal, but the mark is still there. And sometimes it just flares up.

Bella might have left Forks, but Jake left her first. I knew damn well I'd have to push her on the subject of him. I knew damn well she was probably worried and scared of how I would react when she told me she was in love with a werewolf and had planned to spend the rest of her life with him. It wasn't stupid for her to be worried about it. I understood completely why she worried over it. She made a mistake, and she knew it.

Bella was sitting on the couch trying to read a book I told her she should read. Her left leg was tucked underneath her right leg, and it was nervously twitching about a hundred miles per hour. She was trying to concentrate much to my amusement.

Jake and Edward would be hard subjects to broach. But we needed to talk about it. She didn't need to be worrying about shit like that no more. The thing was though, I was going to sit there all fucking day and blow everything off until I had a clue of how to do that, or contemplate when was the right time. I didn't like seeing her worry.

Getting it out of the way was of essence. We needed to move on to things that were more important. Like her and I. And lots of physical therapy.

We were a pair. She manifested physical pain because she worried too much about the what ifs, and she used to hear Edward's voice. At least her voice wasn't real. Mine was, and if that wasn't fucked up, I didn't know what was. I couldn't have a voice from the goddamn Field Of Dreams, I had to have the voice that breathed cold air and snatched up my future wife's body.

Plus, I didn't even wanna think about what would have happened if I didn't go along with the message. Having Bella spew green pea shit across the room would send me straight to the proverbial nut house for sure.

Plus it would be puke, and I would have rather of cleaned up shit. But I knew two things. One was to keep my mouth shut, and the other was to assume the dead can haunt you for the rest of your fucking undying life.

The thing about Charlotte was she was always chatty. She loved a good piece of drama, and always stuck her nose in where she didn't belong. I would always love her, I would always hold her memory dear to my heart, but sometimes she need to butt out.

While I was trying to work, I'd catch Bella every now and then staring at me. For twenty one minutes I watched her attempt to read. She would look at me when _I_ wasn't completely watching her. She was starting to squirm and she wasn't really interested in reading.

I was waiting for that moment when her OCD would kick in. It would happen. If she couldn't read, she sure as hell could find something to clean. Something to take her mind off things.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

When I had come in from outside, Peter was hard at work and casting rainbows all over the place. He was the most beautiful vampire I had ever seen. It was hard to believe this man was in love with me.

He wasn't even immersed in full sunlight. His upper torso cast rainbows across the back wall. Reflections and rainbows danced subtly when he would write something down, or when he swiveled in the chair to click something on the computer. It was hard to look away.

I kept the pleasantries short when I walked back in so he could get his work done. He had the satellite on the Sirius Classic Country channel with the volume on a low setting. I had went to the bookcase to find a book when he had come over and pulled out the one he had talked about. I never read it, and Dean Koontz was a good story teller. I settled on the couch to get my mind off him and relax for a little bit.

That was proving to be very difficult.

The first reason being was Peter, of course. We were playing a game we both probably weren't trying to play. I would read a few pages but not able to completely grasp what was going on because I would feel his eyes on me. Plus, I had a hard time not watching him work, too.

He seemed to be deep in thought because he was frowning quite a bit. His hair fell forward as he leaned over the drafting table. His right foot holding his leg on the rest bar was unconsciously twitching about a hundred miles an hour. The moment he would look up, I would go back to reading my book. But it wouldn't be long before I would feel a chill run down my spine, or I would just _feel _him staring at me.

He would look back down, the moment I looked up.

The second was the goddamn bookshelves. When I really got a good look, I noticed a thick layer of dust covering the shelves and bookends. It hadn't been dusted in months. There was tiny cobwebs in the back corners and they were lacing through the thick bindings;especially on the top shelf. He had some first editions and some nice Encyclopedia sets up there. It was easy to tell he had read Larry McMurtry's Dead Man's Walk recently because of the goddamn dust smear.

When I got to page forty, I stopped. I got the gist of the book, and it probably was quite enthralling if I would have been able read it by myself. The book was called Lightning. Laura Shane was the main character, and in the book she was saved at birth from certain destruction from a drunk doctor by a mysterious stranger. Then eight years later, he comes back into her life again to save her and her father from a drug-crazed robber. Then her dad dies a few years later at the age of forty two from a heart attack, and she sees him at the funeral. He looked the same to her, he wasn't aging. But I completely spaced out the part about Stefan, who was the mysterious stranger.

I needed to be productive and do something. Peter was sighing out loud and I kept feeling like I was being watched. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing; in fact, it was rather flattering. But maybe he needed his distraction to go away for awhile so he could get some work done.

I got up from the sofa and went into the kitchen. Under the sink was all his household cleaners, dusting cloths, and rags. I grabbed a can of Pledge and some Windex; along with a dust rag and some paper towels; and headed back towards the bedroom. I needed to be productive and go through his shit.

_I_ needed a distraction away from Peter.

I heard a faint chuckle as I disappeared down the hallway. That bastard knew it, too.

Maybe I did take cleaning to the extreme. As I cleaned, I could focus on nothing in particular, and I would stop thinking so much. When I first arrived in Santa Fe, it was important to keep busy. So when I wasn't working, going to school, or sleeping, cleaning gave me a way out of thinking about the past, and being alone.

Before I met Peter, it was just habit. Being in his house with him, it would keep my mind off my worries about the man sitting at the other end of the house.

Letting me clean his. I had half the notion to take a walk out to his garage when I was done with the bedroom and the bathroom.

I dusted Peter's entire bedroom. The headboard and the posts, it was a lot to dust. When I got to the end tables, I'd pull a drawer open just enough to wipe the rim. In the top drawer, there was a couple small pocket notebooks, pens, pencils, a couple nice band watches, and a couple Louis L'Amour books. The bottom was filled with more books, and three or four VHS and DVD's each.

It was his porn stash, but it wasn't so bad. Sure he had a few questionable films like Superwhores and Swallow My Squirt, but he had a couple Andrew Blake films, and I knew he was famous for making quality porn movies because of some conversation I caught at the bar one night. The cover on Secret Paris read like there was a lot of girl on girl action. There were a couple Emmanuelle's and Debbie does Dallas, also.

He said he liked the classics.

In the tall dresser in the corner, Peter kept his jeans, sweats, pajama pants, t-shirts, and his underwear. He wasn't wearing any, the night before. If he did wear them, he wore boxer briefs, mostly blue or black, but he had a few white pairs with reinforced crotches and a horizontal 'opening.'

I couldn't help but laugh. I guess he needed some support sometimes. I guess I was just happy folding a pair of underwear that supported Peter's dick. Peter didn't fold them, he just threw them in the drawer.

I wasn't anal, I just liked to fold underwear.

The other dresser was mostly empty, except for the bottom where he kept new pairs of jeans, Cardhartt bib overalls, and packages of plain t-shirts. One side of the closet was empty; but on the smaller side he kept his coats and jackets, his nicer shirts, a couple pairs of khaki's, dress pants, and three or four nice suits.

I made the bed and piled last night's clothes by the door, taking Peter's cell phone, wallet, and spare change out of the pocket on his jeans. I put them on a blue Talavera plate on top of his dresser. The bathroom was pretty clean so I just wiped down the vanity counter and cleaned the inside of the window.

I grabbed all our clothes and headed towards the utility room. I noticed Peter had a small white and dark load waiting to be washed earlier, and I wasn't going to wear dirty underwear when I went home.

When I made it to the living room he was hard at work, leaning over his drafting table using some tool that beeped.

He spoke, but he didn't stop working. "If you're going to do the wash too, don't use too much bleach. It burns my nose."

"I found your porn collection. Pretty classy for the most part, but, Swallow My Squirt?"

I walk through the utility room door, but his voice followed me.

"Hey, Gianna Michaels is one hell of an actress."

Peter helped me fold and hang the darks after they were dry. He watched me carefully as I folded his t-shirts, straightening out the seems so they didn't fold up. He also goaded me some more on the upcoming horse race. The white load was still in the washer.

While he went back to work, I finished dusting the spare bedroom, and the pictures in the hallway. Nothing had been dusted or cleaned for months. I even got the step stool he kept in the utility room and cleaned all the pottery pieces sitting on top of the kitchen cupboards.

I found one of those telescoping cobweb removers and a long handled duster in the utility room and headed for the bookcase. The bookcases were large and made out mahogany. There was three of them; and they spanned the wall about fifteen feet. The top shelves were about two feet above me. I went to work, pulling all the books down and stacking them in order.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

Bella was a machine. Her fierce determination to clean the house and rid it of every fucking pretty dust mote had me wanting to:

A: Take her to bed and make passionate love to her because after all her hard work, she deserved some TLC...

Or B: Bend her over the kitchen island and just fuck her senseless so she wouldn't have to scrutinize the goddamn dust sticking to the surface of the pottery above the kitchen cabinets.

Or C... Both.

She _needed_ to be productive.

Watching her titties bounce around while she worked was affecting my concentration. Plus she put her hair up in a ponytail; I could see a light sheen of sweat covering the nape of her neck.

I wanted to lick her clean. And fuck her senseless.

There was no stopping her. I _could_ have, but she clearly wanted to stay busy and needed the distraction. Lounging around watching TV or reading when there was something that needed to be done just wasn't something she could do. It made her feel more comfortable. Plus, she could go through my stuff.

I listened to her most of the time. She'd hum with a tune playing over the speakers, or she would laugh to herself when she found something interesting. Like my underwear and my porn.

I had flitted into the bedroom and took a peak around the corner. She had been folding my fucking underwear. I loved her, but the woman was a little anal. I just let her go on and do her thing.

I kind of hoped she'd win that bet. I'd go fuck up her drawers.

The shit was getting a little out of hand when she got to the bookcase. She was lifting stacks of Encyclopedia's off the top shelf. She would step down to the floor from the top step of the step-stool, stumbling here or there. It was evident that she planned on doing the entire bookcase, and doing it thoroughly.

"Any chance you'd consider doing that naked?" I asked with false hope.

She rolled her eyes and mumbled out. "Get back to work. It's almost two thirty."

It was kind of hard to work with a constant hard on. She looked great in my clothes. My pants were way too big on her. She had the waist folded over and they were riding low on her hips; and they made her ass look big. She'd have to pull them up all the time.

That white shirt did nothing to conceal her breasts; and when she raised her arms up, they would lift with her body.

But the clothes needed to go, she looked better naked. And maybe she needed to clean the bookcase when I won the bet.

She hadn't complained about her leg anymore but it didn't matter. Bella was just a little thing. And although she was in great shape, and had learned a little more stability, repetitive lifting and moving still didn't mix well. She was gonna end up on her ass before too long.

I did feel a little guilty she was cleaning our house. And it was our house.

When she wobbled and almost fell off the top step holding a stack of books, I couldn't take it anymore. She wanted to clean the bookcase, and we were going to clean the bookcase.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

I had just climbed the step stool again to take another load of books off when I felt two strong hands grab my hips.

"Do me a favor and just stay up there. You dust and I'll take the books down." I looked down to Peter who was just a tad bit shorter since I was standing on the second step.

"No, just..go finish your work. I'm alright."

I ignored him and the heat running through me for the most part, because his fingers on my skin just seemed to make my senses come alive. I grabbed another stack. He raised his arms up, his hands touched mine as he gripped the stack. He took them away.

"I've only got two sets left to run. I'll do it after we get the bookcase done. What do you want?"

He pointed to my can of Pledge, the cob-web remover, and the hand duster. His flat expression told me he had every intention of helping.

"Your cobweb remover. Just take the pole off, I don't need it. You know, I'm surprised you own one of these, they're very handy. But you don't seem to use it. That spare bedroom was filled with webs. And spiders."

"That's because I didn't buy it, my housekeeper did. She was just as thorough as you, and she hates spiders."

Peter removed the rest of the books lining the top shelf using his nifty vampire speed, leaving a couple bronze lion bookends and a couple crystal hummingbirds hanging from perches.

"You said she hadn't been here for a few months. Did she quit, or did you eat her when she walked out into the garage?"

Peter gave me a reproachful look but it was half-assed and he couldn't help but smile.

"You're funny. Marcy had to quit but not because she wanted to. She lives down the road a little bit. She ran her own little cleaning business for the last few years. I hired her to come in here every couple of weeks when she showed up my door step trying to line up work. She's a sweet gal; a little flaky. She used to bring me Macadamia nut cookies, after we had a conversation one day about what my favorite kind of cookies were. I always had to swallow a couple of goddamn bites while she was here."

I tried to give him a sympathetic look, but I ended up laughing instead.

"That's not funny." His glare was funnier.

"Yes, it is." I got a hold of myself. "So why did she quit?"

Peter was thoughtful for a moment while I stepped down to move my stool to the corner. I grabbed my can of spray and my rag and he still hadn't answered. He was removing the books from the second shelf. From his profile he looked as if he was deep in thought.

"Peter?"

He snapped his head in my direction before shaking it. "Sorry. Uh, three years ago, she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. Her daughter made her finally go to the doctor because she wouldn't quit menstruating. She hadn't had a check up in over ten years because she hated doctors. Afraid of them, I guess."

"It was aggressive, they didn't know if it had spread into her lymph nodes; so they put her through some harsh rounds of chemo and radiation. Her insides were fried and she was in pain a lot, but she beat it. Two months ago, they found a mass in her left breast when she went in for a check up. She had a double mastectomy and some more chemo, but they just found it in her right lung last month. She's only forty two."

He obviously felt bad for her. "You like her, don't you?"

He looked up and smiled. "Yeah. She knows something's not 'right' with me, but she didn't treat me any different. She's nosy though, she was _always_ asking questions about why a good looking man like me wasn't snatched up by some big breasted woman. Plus, she'd piss me off every time she touched my work space. Don't even think that I'm letting you over there." Peter warned me with his eyes.

Of course he liked her. It was very evident in the way he'd look every where else while he bitched about her. She was a friend.

"I wouldn't dream of assaulting that mess. At least not while you're around. So, is she married?"

"No. Her husband left her for some young blond before she got sick. She's got two daughters but only one of them is worth a shit. Her oldest is into drugs and lives out on the west coast somewhere. Becky, her other daughter, she's a single mom and a nurse out at St. Vincent's. They live with her." Peter stuck a few books up on a shelf I had cleaned and looked up at me with just a blank expression.

"How much time does she have left?"

He shrugged, and didn't answer for a moment. "A week, two weeks at the most. It's spreading fast. They're keeping her on oxygen but she'll still probably die of asphyxiation. I went to see her a little over a week ago. The pain meds they have her on have her high as a kite and she hallucinates a lot."

I moved the step stool over and finished dusting the other two parts of the second shelf. "Cancer is terrible. Debbie's mom had breast cancer. It's hard for her to talk about. It's good thing you did though, visiting her, I mean. I'm sure she really appreciated seeing you."

Peter scoffed. "Yeah, she did. She had her daughter whip up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. I even had to force down a glass of milk. I used to love milk."

I laughed. Peter looked as if he could cry from disgust were it possible. "I'd give money to see that."

Peter gave a look of disbelief and shook his head. "Bitch," he said. But he was joking. He was putting a stack of books back on the shelf by me. One of them fell forward and a red bookmark with the tassel became partially dislodged.

Peter looked at me hesitantly. "I don't know if you'd have give money, but.. I kind of told her I'd come back to see her this weekend. I just remembered. What would you say to going with me tomorrow? Her place is just down the road. We wouldn't stay long."

There was some sort of pleading look on his face, but he looked a little worried at the same time.

I really hadn't expected that. But he wanted to make good on his word and see her. It would probably be the last time he would ever see her alive.

I nodded at him while I grabbed the book that fell forward to put bookmark back in. "Okay. Sure. I'd like to meet her," I said.

Pain flared inside my chest. A subtle feeling, that just took my breath away for a moment. I knew what it was, it was just quick memories playing before my eyes. Memories of my mother dying.

"Good. She'll like you. She'll especially like the fact that I brought my girlfriend. Last time she was here, she told me she thought I was gay. And she told me I just needed to break down that goddamn closet door and embrace it."

I was laughing hard as I looked at the book. It wasn't a very large book. An old hardcover. It was titled 'A Thousand Texans: Men Of The 36th Calvary Division.'

The bookmark came out of a spot in the book where there were old photos of the different regiments. Most of the photos were blurry and the faces obscured. Plus, they weren't the original pictures of course. Peter who stepped over closer to take a look, had a look on his face I really couldn't decipher.

"See anybody you know?" He asked quietly.

I snorted. "No. Am I supposed to?"

"Look at the one on the top. In the front row."

There were eight men in the front row. Eight boys, actually, all wearing gray Confederate uniforms with embossed sleeves and stiff collars; all holding rifles with bayonets by their sides. They were all wearing floppy hats; except for the one on the end. He was wearing an officer's hat.

The photo was black and white of course, and under the photo the caption read _'9__th__ Division, Galveston'_. Peter put his finger inside the book and showed me the head I was supposed to look at. It was the officer.

The face didn't look familiar at all. He was just a young man. His hair was mostly hidden by the hat. He was standing on the end. You could tell from the picture that his skin was dark; tanned and aging because of the harsh rays from the sun.

I shook my head and looked at Peter who was smiling a little.

I smiled back. "Who is it?"

"That is Major Jasper Whitlock. Six months before he was changed."

I gasped. "You're kidding!"

"Nope. It's the only photo we ever found of him. He showed it to me in this book a long time ago. I found this copy a few years back."

The picture was crap. There really was no resemblance to the Jasper I knew. Maybe it was because this was just an innocent boy staring at the lens. His eyes were so different; and the man in the photo looked tired. They all did.

"I can't tell. I knew Jasper was eighteen when he was changed, but I didn't know when. He was in the Civil War?" Peter was stroking my arm soothingly, like he was expecting me to lose it or something. I wasn't. I was just a little shocked.

"Yeah. He was born in 1845, and changed right after the battle for Galveston. He was the youngest major in Texas. He joined the ranks when he was sixteen, telling the recruiters he was eighteen. He was eighteen for real in that photo, but the army thought he was twenty. Jasper was in charge of evacuating civilians from Galveston during the battle. When they were safely out of the city, he headed back to Galveston and found _Maria_ and her sisters. He thought they were evacuees. You can guess the rest." Peter had a forlorn look on his face, and the mention of Maria's name was pretty much a curse word.

"My God. He really _was_ with her a long time."

Peter took the book away and placed it on the shelf. I didn't need the step stool anymore and I moved it back. I started taking books off the third shelf at the end.

"Yeah, he was. She took more away from him than just his life. Jasper thought that was the only way to exist; fighting for her. They were together for decades. He used to worship the ground she walked on. It took him awhile to see the light. You never noticed his scars, did you?"

I looked at Peter who was frowning. "No, I didn't."

He grabbed a stack of books and placed them on the floor. "Well, you've seen mine. Imagine mine, a thousand times over. Jasper hides them well, and your eyes wouldn't be able to see them unless the light hit him a certain way. To me, the fucker's scary looking."

Never had I seen Jasper in less than a sweater, long sleeve shirt, or a jacket. There was no wonder Jasper had such difficulty refraining from killing humans, he did it for so long. He killed for territory.

"It makes sense now. Jasper always kept his distance. He was nice enough; always polite. Edward always thought it wasn't his place to tell me his story. Or Rosalie's. Edward wanted to protect me from things he might have considered...horrific. Or evil."

Peter looked down at me with surprised look. His face fell. "Or maybe he just didn't feel it was his place to tell you something that was of a private nature, Bella. Something that it was difficult for them to even think about, and out of respect for his brother and sister. I don't know the complete details of Rosalie's history, but I can tell you she was raped and left for dead when Carlisle found her. And not just raped and beaten by some random stranger, she was raped by her fiancée; and his drunk friends."

_My God._

I was reeling with all this new information. I swallowed back the bile that had traveled up my throat. I felt ignorant. Edward had told me that what Rosalie went through wasn't that much different than what I almost experienced in Port Angeles, but I never thought...

I never thought into it.

I swayed on my feet, my ears were ringing. Peter was there, trying to wrap me up in his arms.

I shook him off. "No. no. I'm fine. Really. My _God_." I went about dusting the third shelf I cleared. I didn't know. I didn't have any idea. Rosalie didn't like me. She thought I was an intruder into their lives, I suppose."

Peter stood beside me; looking a little wounded. "She didn't care for me and Charlotte that much, either. Charlotte thought she took the name 'Bitch' to the extreme. Jasper told me she was bitter, mostly because she lost her humanity. Lost her ability to have a family, which is what she wanted the most. If you were willing to give up your humanity for Edward, that's probably why she didn't _like_ you.

"It's not _easy_ being what we are, Bella. Losing the privilege of having children, not being able to sleep, or dream, or eat foods we used to love...Well, it's one hell of a price to pay for immortality." He said seriously, and the look on his face reflected that.

I did not like where this was headed.

"I know that. Maybe not entirely because I am human, and I can do all those things now. But I didn't want immortality because I was afraid to die. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Edward as an equal. Not a hindrance. I mean..how would you feel at the thought of spending the rest of your life as a human with a woman that didn't age? Or...Because you caused her to suffer through needless pain? Or how would you feel as you aged, as you withered away into nothing, while your mate forever remained seventeen?" I asked him heatedly.

He just stared at me, with a calm look on his face. I had snapped at him, and I hadn't meant to.

"Not very good, I suppose. Even if he told me a hundred times that it didn't matter. Even if he told me he'd love me just the same. It would be hard to stand beside him in a mirror, and not see the inequality in such a thing." Peter said quietly.

His eyes looked sad. They were full of sorrow, and pity. I turned away.

"Yeah, no shit." I choked out. I took a deep breath and moved over to the shelf Peter cleared off. An uncomfortable silence worked it's way between us for a moment. I hated it. I hated that I snapped at him. I hated that he had to look at me like that.

"I'm sorry."

I turned to look at him. "Don't apologize. You didn't say anything wrong. You just didn't know what I based my reasons for wanting to change were for. And you know what? I would have stayed with him anyway, even if it would have never been an option. I would have stayed with him and grown old, and I would have hoped that maybe someday he would have changed his mind."

A mirthless laugh bubbled up and out of my throat. " But I wasn't given a choice. I'm not afraid of dying, Peter. I damn near lost my life three times now and you know what? I embraced the thought of dying each fucking time." I turned away from him when I saw him flinch at my words.

_Goddamn it_. I wasn't angry at him, but I sounded defensive. Even to my own ears.

He didn't say anything, I just felt him quietly standing beside me, watching me. I should have known what was about to come next, because I hadn't thought carefully about my words before I had bit them out.

I wasn't angry with Peter, at all. The truth was I guess I was still a little bitter at Edward's blatant disregard for my wishes. He had said the words that would disconnect me from him. Words that would cut through bindings that were not strong because I was never his equal.

I wished he would have been able to see that I well aware what a life with him would have meant, even if I would have had to stay human.

I would have been half miserable and constantly questioning myself, but I would have had him. I had failed to prove to Edward that he was not a monster; that he was not soulless. And he even if he would have been, I would have stood by his side and loved him just the same.

"What happened to you after they left, Bella?"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

For a moment there, I almost thought the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. She had to know I would ask, but she froze just the same. She was silent, staring distantly at the staircase while cleaning the same spot, over and over.

The conversation had just started from just seeing Jasper's photo. I was silently a little relieved that it took a turn. Talking about Marcy and the shit she's went and was going through was difficult enough. But as we talked about her, and idea had come to mind.

Marcy had a knack for seeing people for who they truly were. She was a kind woman who always gave someone the benefit of the doubt. She reminded me of my sister.

When Bella met her tomorrow, I hoped she would be able to understand. I hoped she could understand the reason I wouldn't be able to let Marcy suffer through anymore pain or let her loose herself completely.

Where she would give me a way to sustain myself, I would give her relief, and she would know again what peace was.

I was surprised with Bella. Even a little disappointed. Edward fucked up, that was most definitely true. Bella was never his equal, and wouldn't have been even if she would have changed. But he never tried to protect her from the truth or keep the truth from her, not until the bitter end. Had she forgotten that he, himself, told her he was waiting until she finally ran away screaming?

I was only making the assumption, I didn't know what Edward thoughts were or how he felt. But I knew him well enough to know he had certain respect and affection for both Rosalie and Jasper. He would never tell Bella of their private and tumultuous histories, not without their say so. He had to live with their deepest and darkest thoughts. I respected him, even if I wanted to punch him in the mouth a time or two for leaving Bella the way he did.

That was thing about my 'gift' that sucked. My thoughts were constantly torn. If Edward wouldn't have left Bella, I would have never had her. I would always defend her, and her reasoning. But at the same time, I felt for him and for what he gave up. It wasn't an easy decision for him to make. Giving her up was the hardest thing he ever had to do probably. It didn't take a genius with a gift to see that.

I want to hug him, thank him, junk punch him, and rip his goddamn tongue out for telling her she was not good enough for him.

Or buy him a car. Maybe even a whole fleet of Volvo's and Aston Martin's. Just so _I _would feel better because what he gave up was priceless.

She was the only one that had to pay the cost, and her humanity was hers to give.

The bitterness she still harbored was justifiable; because in the end, Edward did what he thought was best for her without giving her a choice. The ramifications of such a thing had no doubt crossed her mind.

If Jasper hadn't lost control or Bella never had cut herself, who knows how many years could have gone by without incident? Even if years had passed before something could have happened, would Edward have done the same? When she was forty? Would he have left her then, only to completely destroy her?

There's no doubt in my mind, it would have destroyed them both.

Ten seconds later she was still wiping the same bookshelf. It was _so_ not the way it went down in my vision, but that shit no longer mattered. It was so much better, because we were about to clear the air about Jacob. And I didn't give a fuck how she got it out, she just needed to get it out. And so did I.

Even the conversation with Debbie had been subdued and lacked emotion. She needed to get pissed. She needed to cry. Maybe she even needed to throw something at me, when I pushed her.

And a hostile Bella made a hot Bella.

Her heartbeat was rapid, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

"Bella, answer me. What happened to you when they left?" I asked her gently. She blinked; and realized she had been dusting the same shelf over and over. She moved closer to work on the next.

"I lived," She scoffed silently; she still wouldn't look at me. "I tried to. The first week was the hardest, I guess. Catatonia and I got along pretty well. I spent four months void of all things that reminded me of him, just so I could make it day to day.

"I don't remember a whole lot now; what was going through my head at the time. I was just..numb. I couldn't eat, I couldn't go to school. And the pain at night when I was alone was the worst. When my Mom and Dad started packing my things so I could move down to Florida, I made an effort to move on, but not really."

She looked at me, as though she were ashamed. "My Mom and Dad both thought that the change would bring me out of it, but I snapped. I put up just enough effort to show my parents that I could get on with my life, and I didn't need to move any where that was bright and unfamiliar. Because I thought that if I had done that, how could I have been sure he was real?" She said, shrugging her shoulders but then shaking her head.

"Edward helped too, you know. He left with nothing to remind me of him. He had promised me that it would be as if he never existed. It was a stupid promise to make, and he failed. And that's why I lived." She finished, with a little bit of that bitterness on the surface.

I sighed, the one thing I have never known is if she ever had hope. "Was there hope left, did you hope he would come back?"

She shook her head. There were no tears, just a grimace. "No. You have to understand that when he left me that day, Edward said some things that made me believe I was not good enough for him. So for a long time I believed that. It didn't matter though, those things he said, because Edward was the very best part of my life. I used to worry that he was right, that my mind was like a sieve and I would forget him. But he was wrong. I could never forget him. If I had moved to Jacksonville to where it was warm and sunny, I wouldn't be able to imagine him there. Forks for me was the only place his kind could have existed." Bella smiled somewhat, looking at me pointedly while shaking her head.

I imagine it was because I existed somewhere warm and sunny, somewhere she thought she'd never see another vampire or werewolf ever again.

"Boy, you had that shit wrong, didn't you?" I smiled softly at her.

"Yes," She mumbled out. "God, help me." She shook her head with an exasperated look, but she was smiling.

Of course, it was only short lived. Bella looked away. She went about putting the books back on the shelf.

"So, after I threw a 'fit' you could say, I tried to pick up where I left off. I went school. I went to work. I cooked dinner for Charlie, and I tried like hell to stay busy. Thinking about him..or them, wasn't an option. But it still happened. Most of time, I'd try to avoid my room as much as possible. We spent a lot of time there. And when I was alone, with no school work or nothing to do, I'd feel the pain. It actually felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. Or breaking, I guess," she ended quietly.

"That's easy to explain. You loved him. You loved them. He altered you. There was no way you could go back to the person you were before. You viewed him and that family as something mythical and magical. To be apart of that world with him made you appreciate life even more, even if we are technically dead. To take something away from you that you truly appreciated and that you thought was beautiful was effectively heart breaking."

Bella looked at me with surprise in her eyes. "Yes," she breathed out.

I smiled at her. "Go on."

Once again her face dropped, and her eyes dilated. She sighed and looked away. "God, I really don't want to."

"Why? You've come this far."

"Because, you're gonna think I'm crazy, and...you're just going to shit. And you might think.."

I laughed. "I can't shit. Would you believe I miss that? Stepping up to the bowl and dropping a load used to be the highlight of my day. Besides, if you weren't a little crazy, I'd doubt you be here now, so let me have it."

She looked at me and tried to glare. "Thanks."

Bella did better when she wasn't looking at me, so I turned away and started to clear off the next shelf slowly. It took her a moment to think about how she wanted to say it, so I just waited as she continued to stack books on the shelf above me.

Seconds ticked by, and still Bella didn't say anything. When she was finally done dusting the shelf I had cleared; and I was removing books from the next, she froze in place, and looked down.

Her heart began to beat frantically, the vein in her neck was pulsing heavily under her translucent skin. She was gripping the shelf, her knuckles were white. Her breasts were rising heavily with each short and deep breath, and her legs started to shake a little.

"Bella?"

She glanced at me quickly before she looked down and away with the most terrified look on her face; and in her eyes.

I ran to the kitchen and got a bottle of water. I grabbed a couple paper towels, too. I ran back to the bookcase and picked her up.

It was bad. But it was also kind of wonderful to know that she worried that much about how I would react to Jacob. She worried enough to throw herself into a panic attack.

She was sitting on my lap, cradled in my lap and my left arm leaning back on the chaise of the couch before she even realized where she was. Having something else to focus on like cleaning the bookcase wasn't helping to alleviate her stress and fear, so hands on therapy was a little fucking required.

"Oh!"

"Yeah, _Oh_. Drink this now, please." And I wasn't asking. Watching her fall apart pissed me off. It made me want to cry and tell her don't worry about it. I already know everything and I love you.

She had to use both shaking hands to hold the bottle.

"Boy, I'm impressed. That's twice in one day. Wanna tell me what's going on?"

She was looking at me out of the sides of her eyes as she gulped down another drink. She pulled the bottle away and swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, it's nothing. I just need a minute."

"Bullshit. That was a goddamn panic attack. I know a thing or two about those, Bella, I used to have them myself when I was human. Your hearts starts to race to the point where you think it's going to burst out of your chest. Your blood starts pumping, and you have trouble breathing. You get to shaking and your throat closes off. Now, what I want to know is do you think it's behavioral? Or do you think it's physical? Because judging by what I've witnessed so far I'd have to say it's a little bit of both."

"I don't know." She choked out, angrily.

Bullshit. "You've had these since he left, didn't you?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. You could literally see the shell around her heart shatter. She clutched her chest with her left hand and cried as she spoke. "Yes. It got better as time went on; and after the first year I lived here, it would only happen when I was reminded of something back home. Or when I would have a nightmare." She let out a large breath. Bella willed herself to calm down, and she was, somewhat.

She didn't even realize why they had started back up again. But it did get better. Better when she fell in love with Jacob. She didn't have them the entire time she was with him. And afterward when she had moved to Santa Fe, they were only brought on by dreams and nightmares.

"It got better until you met me."

She looked at me and her face screwed up. She was threatening to wail.

"Yes. I'm..I'm sorry, Peter. Maybe you think I'm not over it, but I am. I just..I'm just worried..."

I sighed and squirmed a little to sink us further into the cushions so she could rest her head. "You're worried I'll think less of you, for whatever you're not telling me. Worried that I won't want you, right?"

She nodded quickly, squishing up her eyes, trying not to let the tears fall.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint your need to fall apart, but that won't happen no matter what. So why don't you just get the shit out, so I know what I'm dealing with should this ever happen again. The shit goes deeper than Edward or the Cullen's', it goes towards the reason that brought you down here in the first place. Who was he?"

She looked away ashamed.

She was a dipshit. Even if I didn't know, she had to know I could put two and two together.

She stayed silent.

"Alright. Well then tell me this. Why did you leave Forks? Why did you suddenly decide that you wanted to forget the only place you could imagine Edward?"

She took a deep breath and stared endlessly at a scar on my chest. I was rubbing her back, and her neck.

"Because I let him go long before that. I figured I'd always remember him, but..I let him go. And I left Forks because of Jacob."

"Who's Jacob?" I asked, while trying not to spit out the name.

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Jacob was a boy out at the Quileute Reservation. Jacob was a protector for his people, against the cold ones. And he was my best friend. Jacob...is a werewolf."

_Finally._

For her to live through every fucking detail flowing through her head was almost excruciatingly painful to even watch.

The fear that she had, the reason she was reminded of pain was all based on the fear of being left alone again, and losing what she loved. Me. And there wasn't anything I could say to make that fear go away, except be there for her when it was all said and done.

We were now at the stage in her life where my fucking acting skills played a crucial part. Acting. Bella was expecting a reaction.

The thing was, I didn't need to act out no more than I was, because the truth I was holding back made me sick to my stomach. It made my heart wrench, and it made me hate myself.

"Say that again?"

Bella glanced at my face quickly. I made sure to keep my expression neutral. She closed her eyes and let out another relieving sigh.

She spoke very slowly."Jacob Black. That's his name. He's a werewolf. He was my best friend. He was.. he was the reason I left Forks. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hide anything from my Dad. Charlie wasn't stupid, he knew every step I made was only made in effort to appease him and my Mom. Charlie thought I was suffering from depression, I suppose. He thought I was waiting for Edward to come back."

She took a deep breath. "I thought that if I made an effort to engage in some type of social interaction with someone at school, I could appease Charlie so he'd get off my back. It was just so hard to even act happy. I just didn't have the will to try, so I didn't. I spoke when I was spoken to, and I did only what I needed to do so the numbness could overshadow the pain."

Bella wouldn't look at me, she was just looking down and pulling at the fingers on both hands. I gave her my right hand so she could have something to twist without inadvertently dislocating a fucking finger; because she was pulling at them that hard.

She spoke softly. "I tried to make an effort, I made plans to go see a movie that night with a girl from school. We went to Port Angeles and watched a movie. A zombie movie, she laughed out. "After that, we walked down the street to go get something to eat. We passed by this bar and there..were these guys standing in front of the bar and..well, they reminded me of something that happened when.." She groaned, but shook off her embarrassment.

"Anyways, I walked into the street and approached these guys...and...Oh, _God._"

She was cringing, and she groaned again.

"And what?" I gave her a pointed look.

"I heard Edward's voice." Bella made this little cry sound in her throat and hid her face in her hands. My mind split in half. One half felt so fucking guilty, that I felt confused on how to 'react' to shit I already knew.

The other half wanted to laugh at little at how uncomfortable and nervous she was, because _I_ actually felt sort of...flattered.

She was exposing something so personal, it was kind of an endearing thing to experience, really. Endearing and absolutely so wonderful, it made my chest swell up with such deep emotion at how much she worried what I would think, and how she already valued that.

I waited a moment. "You heard his voice?"

"I heard his voice."

"What did he say?"

"He told me to stop this, right now."

"So what you're telling me is, he wasn't there. It was your imagination."

"No, and yes. He told me to go back to Jessica. He said 'I promised, nothing stupid.' I know you think I'm crazy, believe me, even _I_ thought I was. And I probably was, but I just assumed my subconscious was giving me what it thought I wanted."

Bella was actually telling me what she heard, and the truth was, I was a little surprised. When she told Debbie about hearing Edward's voice, she didn't go into details and tell her the words that she heard. Afraid of her friend's reaction I suppose, afraid she would have thought she was delusional, or something. She never even went into specifics with Jake.

When she had told me -in a future I used to know- it was just he warned her; whenever she did something reckless, or when her life was threatened.

I sighed, long and hard, for dramatic purposes only. "What do you mean?"

She sighed and closed her eyes again. "I thought it was giving me relief from the pain, by believing that he did care whether I lived or died. I guess you could say it woke me up. The pain I felt was still there, but I discovered I could live through it." She opened her eyes again and looked at me. "Pretty crazy, huh?"

"If I told you yes, would you hold it against me?"

She looked at me and laughed a little under her breath. "No."

"No, I don't think your crazy. And I'll tell you why. But _after_ you finish telling me how the fuck you got mixed up with a werewolf."

"Werewolves." She groaned and and her face squished up.

"Oh. More than one, huh? Fill me in, Bunny." I made sure to keep my voice even, light.

She studied my face for a moment. "Jacob and his family were sort of old family friends. He was the one who sort of helped me come up with the answer to what the Edward and the Cullen's were. He told me about these legends where the Quileute Indians had descended from wolves. They were the protectors of the tribe against the cold ones, or vampires. Jacob's great grandfather made a treaty with the Cullen's long ago because they didn't hunt humans. Anyways, he told me all this before Edward and I were really a thing."

Bella told me everything. From her reasoning in the truck that day when she sat in front of the Markes house with the motorcycles, to why she jumped off that cliff. In a way, I was indeed in unknown territory. I listened to her thoughts, her reasoning on why Edward's voice actually comforted her, or satisfied her; and why she didn't want to hold up her end of idiotic promises made and not act reckless and stupid.

I sat most there most of the time feeling a little awed. I wasn't even upset at finding out that Bella thought that Jake was her earthbound Sun, that he carried happiness with him and he shared it with her. That was something I never heard before.

I wasn't upset at all.

But she felt like he helped her forget for a little while what she really desired and needed. She was lost in good thoughts about Jake, and it made her smile. If it made her happy, then I was happy, too.

I asked questions when she glossed over details, especially those that related to her and Jake's private conversations. Sometimes she answered, although rather vaguely. I understood that Bella still harbored respect for Jacob, and the truth was nothing could change that. There's just things between two people that is so uniquely intimate that they are not to be shared with others; no matter who you were.

"_It's just that, I know how you're unhappy a lot. And, maybe it doesn't help anything, but I wanted you to know that I'm always here. I won't ever let you down—I promise that you can always count on me. Wow, that does sound corny. But you know that, right? I would never, ever hurt you?"_

Even I loved the kid after he told her that.

Bella told me what she thought when she realized Jacob was a werewolf. She told me she thought about the insane and far beyond normal world she lived in with a sense of disgust and disbelief. Disgust because he was someone she could relate to, someone she thought was just a normal human boy who treated her like an equal; who treated her like she _wasn't_ a broken object.

She even thought that then there was something deeply wrong with her,and I wanted to tell her that maybe she was right. Before she decided to love Jake, she herself had thought that being involved with creatures that belonged in myths, would tear chunks right out of her chest when they went along their mythical ways. And that was exactly what had happened.

And would I only do the same, wasn't she repeating a pattern she had already engaged in, not only once, but twice?

No. Because I would never leave Bella. And maybe she had a purpose for this world, that just didn't revolve around the two of us. The possibilities left me staggered, disturbed, and a little fucking territorial and defensive over her and whatever would happen in the future.

But she waltzed her way right into a relationship with Jake. Even after she found out about imprinting.

I had a feeling the shit was about to hit the fan, again. Only it was going to be me throwing it.

Bella had grown uncomfortable sitting in my lap, and she was buried in the cushions of the chaise on my left side laying flush with my body, with her head laying on my chest; running her fingers lazily over my stomach. Her left leg was thrown in-between mine, and I stroked her hair.

"So what happened?"

She took a breath, and thought hard and groaned. "I never saw her. Victoria, I mean. She was there. Jake told me they chased her into the water, and they only came back because they were afraid she was going to double back swimming. I guess she saw me from the cliff, I don't know."

She was distant while she spoke, looking up at me. Her voice a soft whisper and there were tears in the corners of her eyes. "I lost consciousness underneath the water. I remember...It felt like my body was being thrown up against the rocks. Jacob was actually beating me on my back, trying to get me to breathe. I guess technically, I did drown, because I couldn't quit coughing up water and my lungs burned something awful. When I finally was able to open my eyes, I saw Jacob turn into a wolf while running back to the water. I didn't know what was going on."

She shook her head back and forth and closed her eyes momentarily. "I couldn't see very well, but I saw her hair from the surface. They were fighting in the water. Sam, Jake, and Victoria. It was raining, so I couldn't tell who was winning, and I felt like I was on the verge of passing out again. I couldn't make sense out of what I was seeing, I mean, the water was thrashing around, anyways. That's when I saw all the blood."

Bella's face fell. "I thought for sure that was it. She killed someone. Someone was dying, and all I could think about was Jake." She shuddered and swallowed back a lump. "When they came out the water, Jake was pulling her to shore. Sam had her by her shoulder, but something was wrong. His left leg, his arm, I mean, was gone. They got her on the beach and by then, Paul and Jared showed up, and I watched them tear her apart."

"Where was Embry?" I asked, just to take her thoughts away from the carnage she had witnessed because it was there in her eyes. Sam's arm had been torn off at the shoulder; tendons and sinews were hanging, and it had been some gross shit.

But asking her about Embry wasn't that bright of an idea, either. Her face fell, and I suddenly recalled why.

"Embry was sent to the Clearwater's. Seth woke up that morning, and he had shifted. He phased right in front of his dad, and that was all it took. Harry Clearwater died. Seth was only fifteen. No one ever expected it to go that far," she said solemnly.

I just looked at her for a minute. It was hard on Bella. I knew she talked to Seth occasionally, when she called Charlie or vise versa. Seth was a good kid, he had always been kind to her.

"So Seth is a werewolf. There's a werewolf living with your dad. Does he know?"

"No, no." She said with fear in her voice. Her eyes even bugged out a little bit "I mean, my God. Charlie would just...I don't know what he would do. Seth took over my old room. He can get in and out of the house easily enough. Seth was only fifteen at the time, and he had a little trouble once he converted, but they didn't move in with Charlie until last year. He's graduating from school in June. I spoke with him the other day, he's going to come visit me for a week."

What? "Wh..What?"

Bella's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, _God_. He..He's coming to visit me, in June. On the tenth. Peter, we hadn't..I mean..." She was starting to panic. Fuck, so was I.

I had to do some quick thinking. "Bella, relax. So Seth is coming to Santa Fe. He can't smell me. At least, I don't think he can. And if he does, then you have to take care of it. And...I think it's in both of our best interests to keep this quiet. Unless you want to tell him. That's fine with me too."

She started to panic anyway. "Maybe..Maybe I should tell him not to come."

"No, Bella. Why is he coming?" I gave her a pointed look.

She just looked at me with a blank look. "Because I asked him to."

"Why?"

"Because I like him. He's a good kid. And Charlie loves him like his son, and that makes him my brother. I've been so disconnected with Charlie and Sue, that I just felt like I needed to do something to show that I do care for them. I mean, Sue and her kids, they're kind of my family now. And when I call, they've treated me as such. Especially Sue. It's like she knows...she knows I miss my Mom...and.."

She started to cry again. "Shh, Bella. It's okay. Of course she knows that, she's got two kids that lost their dad. You need to calm down a little, and we're getting off track. We'll worry about Seth when the time comes, and we'll figure it out then. What happened after Seth phased? Come on, take a few breaths and finish telling me."

I couldn't worry about the future I once knew anymore, but I figured out that things started to go awry at that point. It was last Wednesday. It was a conversation with her dad and Seth when the future changed. I didn't know why, and I really didn't care. Seth visiting Bella wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing; as long as what was between us was kept secret. And it could be good for her.

I didn't see anything past Bella's change. I didn't see how we dealt with Charlie. I assumed that contact with him was broken, whether it was by staging her death or keeping to the strict rules she had already set for herself.

It was all a mind fuck. All the things I never even thought about, were things we needed to think about and talk about more thoroughly in the future. And that was only if Bella wanted me, and wanted me forever.

I was going fucking crazy. It felt like I was breaking to pieces, thinking about the what should have been; what would have been; and what the hell was going to happen next.

It took her a minute to calm herself down. I just kissed her and waited and thought about how she could have it all and not give up everything.

I didn't know the answer.

When her sobs subsided, she took a deep breath and continued to tell me what happened after Seth popped. But it was laced with a thickness that broke my heart.

"I guess it was sort of a knee jerk reaction, because once Leah saw Seth burst, so did she. Harry was having trouble anyways with his blood pressure and cholesterol. He died, later on that evening. Embry stayed with Seth and Leah and tried to get them to change back, so they could go to the hospital to be with Sue. But by the time they managed to do that, it was too late. They never got to goodbye to him."

"What about Sam?"

Bella groaned. "Sam lost a lot of blood during the fight, and he lost his arm. They can heal quickly, but they can't regenerate limbs. His shoulder was mangled. He spent a couple weeks with Quil Ateara's Grandfather. He stepped down as Alpha, and Jake took his place. It was his right, anyway. Sam and Jake still felt there was a threat to the people. And Sam, well, I guess in retrospect with what happened with Emily, Sam finally let some of the guilt he felt go. Well, no. That's not right, I mean.."

"You mean that by giving his arm to kill the threat, maybe he saw it as paying the consequence for hurting Emily. It balanced them out, so to speak."

Bella nodded and sighed, long and hard. "Yeah. They have two kids now. Sam Jr. and Leahanne."

You could see the remorse she felt. Jacob sent her a couple pictures once, Bella never sent any cards or acknowledgments that they were even born.

I stroked her cheek with my thumb. "And you? Were you okay?"

She thought for a moment before she answered. "Yeah. After I watched them burn her body, Jake took me back to his place so we could wait for word on Harry. When he took me home later that night, I made a few decisions. I couldn't imagine my life without Jacob. I was selfish. I never thought at all about how everyone else would feel if I would have died. All because I was addicted to the sound of my delusions."

Bella was starting to cry openly again. I wiggled down a little more so I could blot her tears and look at her face and hold her.

"Jacob was my best friend. He was the only one I could confide in about the entire thing. He was the one person who really understood me and made me feel _human_ again. He was patient, he was kind, and he loved me and wanted me to be happy."

Her eyes were pleading. I don't know why, I understood completely why she chose to return Jake's love. "Bella, shh. You decided to give it a chance, right? You decided to love him back."

She nodded frantically. "Yes. I told him everything. Everything. Even about Edward's voice. It was only fair, and he needed to know what he was getting into. He had to know that although I loved him, that I couldn't be sure it would be enough for him. So I did, and I didn't settle for Jacob, I loved Jacob," she said passionately. "Once I told Jacob everything, he returned so much love for me that...that it was overwhelming. It wasn't the same love I felt for Edward. It was different, and in ways so much better. I didn't have time to think about Edward, because Jacob was always there. He..he was my Sun." She hunched her shoulders once and sobbed.

She grew silent for a very long moment, calming herself down again. Her voice grew dull. "A lot happened that spring and summer. Everything returned to normal. As normal as it could get. I went back to the beach that next day, and I took a vile of Victoria's ashes so I could always remember what Jacob and Sam had fought for. I went back to school and got back in touch with reality, and started hanging around my old friends a lot more. I balanced myself out, so to speak. If Jacob was working or if he was running patrols, I kept myself busy.

"Quil changed a couple days after Victoria's death. I guess it was inevitable. Jacob and the pack still ran patrols. Sam remained on council as tribal leader, and Jared...Jared imprinted," Bella said, her lips tightened.

I wanted to ask her if she thought the pack running patrols was odd, figuring there was no threat. She never voiced her opinion or her thoughts with Jake. But she just moving along so well, I didn't want stop her.

"Can you explain that?"

She chuckled once, mirthlessly. "No, not really. Jacob let the cat out of the bag about Sam. I hadn't known about this before, but before Sam's change, Leah and Sam were high school sweethearts. Leah's my age; they started dating when she was a freshman."

"Leah wasn't Sam's imprint; and there are rules, laws they must abide by. He couldn't tell her what happened to him after he changed; where he went at night, why he seemed to distance himself from her. And this was all going on when the Cullen's were still there. Leah knew something wasn't right, but she had no idea what. But they were trying to make their relationship work. They really did love each other."

Bella's face was a mess. Her eyes were swelled up; her skin blotchy and tear stained. She was bitter; resentful, and righteously so. Even angry.

So was I. I could feel it building up.

"Leah is Emily's cousin. Emily came down one weekend to visit, when it happened. Sam imprinted on Emily. It was one of the bizarre things the pack had to deal with. It was the way they found their mates. Their _soul_ mates. More powerful than ordinary love. More absolute. Just like some real wolves do."

She took a breath, and her voice was distant. "Jared imprinted on a girl named Kim. Someone he sat next to in school everyday."

"I guess if I had been thinking with all my cogs turning, I would have put some thought into why Jake never told me this before. But I didn't. I blew it off because I couldn't understand it. I couldn't understand there was a force at work that made the wolves turn their backs on another one they cared so deeply about. I know now though, it wasn't that I couldn't understand it. I just didn't want to accept something like that. I didn't want to accept that it could happen to us. And at that time, I don't think Jake did either."

I sighed, she had to figure I knew what was coming. At least I hoped she did.

"You couldn't accept that gravity of love. You couldn't accept that when they imprinted, they were suddenly bound to another. You couldn't accept that nothing else holds you more than that one person, and nothing else matters. And you would do anything for that one person, and be anything for her. Whether it's as her protector, her lover, her friend, or her _brother_."

That was why Jake was a fucking asshole. Sweet, lovable Jake had turned his back on Bella. It wasn't that I didn't know or understand it before, but suddenly, I could just _feel_ it all again. All the same emotions I felt when she was going through it.

Fury. Much like had felt all those years ago when I had seen it happen. And I wanted to kill him just as much now as I did back then.

She was wailing into my chest, clinging on me for dear life. I was pissed. And not just pissed at Jake, pissed because Bella had set herself up for certain destruction. It wasn't really funny how all those feelings I repressed were surfacing at that moment.

"So, let me save you the trouble of telling me what happened next, because I really don't want to hear the details of just what you 'experienced' with Jacob. But when did it happen?"

She shuddered against my chest, gulping for air. "A few days after my birthday. Actually before that, at Quil's birthday party. Two weeks before mine."

"Oh, after your birthday, huh? How nice of Jacob. So, you spent the summer with him and you grew more in love with him as time went on. You made love to him, too. Right?"

She nodded with fear in her eyes. I wasn't do a great job at all keeping my anger reigned in.

"Then he imprinted. But not only did he imprint, he decided to focus that devotion as the real thing. He couldn't love his imprint just as a brother or a best friend, he wanted to love her like a mate. A partner, and he wanted to be her lover. Right?"

Bella nodded, her face twisted in pain.

"Because why, Bella? Because only then when she was there, did he think you only settled for him. She could love him more because that level of devotion was something she could never ignore. You've never settled for anyone. Not when Edward found you, and not when I found you. But he wasn't going to see it that way."

She made it a point to stop sobbing and she raised her head to look into what was probably my murderous eyes. Her own face was one of resent.

"No, he didn't. He told me he imprinted and that he loved her. He told me he loved me, but he couldn't ignore what he wanted, and that it was unfair for me. And her! I told him I understood, when I really saw was he was leaving me. I told him I needed some time alone, because Jacob still wanted me to be his best friend. So I left. Leah was waiting for me at my truck, and she took me home."

She spoke with anger. "It was the same as it was with her. Sam had made the same choice. She said I'd be bitter, and she was right. She told me that Jacob would probably wish I wasn't around, because Sam wished for the same."

"Leah couldn't get away from the resentment she had, and the guilt he had, and it strained their relationship even more. I mean, she heard his thoughts! His deepest secrets! I couldn't imagine how hard it was for her to stay around for that. She wanted to be free, but she just didn't have it in her to leave her Mom or Seth. Her situation was different than mine, but I understood what she was telling me. I could leave Forks. I could leave and not have to deal with Jake. I could run away, and not be a burden to anyone but myself."

"I saw my whole life with Jacob. And I wanted it bad. Friends...Family...Children. I wanted to stay there and never move. Not because of Edward, but because of Jacob. Staying there after that wasn't an option. I would have resented him, just like I do now. Jake had two weeks to think about what he wanted, and I knew there was no reason to fight for him. It would have been a waste of time, and I would have only been in the way."

She had calmed, and her face took on a far away look. "I refused to let myself go numb. I saw everything so clearly. I could get away from the bullshit and not have to worry about anyone other than Charlie. But I didn't come to the decision lightly. I was closer than ever before to my Dad."

"But I knew he would understand, and I knew he would be okay. I mean, I had to leave him at some point, right? So I told him I was leaving Forks. I told him as much as I could. He was angry, so angry I thought he wanted to shoot Jake. I had to convince him there was no way my relationship with Jake could ever be repaired. He ended up seeing things my way. Charlie helped me pack, he made me take some money, and the next morning, I left."

"I didn't know where I was going to go. I didn't want to go to my mother's, I just wanted to be alone. I just drove. I went south. I slept when I needed to, and when I reached Santa Fe, my truck broke down. That's how I ended up here. I didn't know it at the time, but Charlie told me the next year when he came to visit me, that Jacob had been adamant about finding me and wanted to convince me to come home."

She said _I_ talked too much.

Nothing she said alleviated my anger. And I wanted to tell her that her fucking truck didn't break down, I broke the goddamn thing and I made sure I did a good job at doing it.

"That's how you ended up here. That's why you couldn't open yourself up to me so easily. Edward left you to keep you human, to keep you safe, because he loved you. But he still left you, he still abandoned you. Where Jacob's concerned, he still loves you, but only in a _way_." I said it in a condescending manner and watched her eyes widen. I knew I hit a mark, but I didn't give a shit.

"So he destroyed what trust you had along with the belief that not everyone would leave you. Which is why you can't believe I'd eventually do the same."

She closed her eyes with a pained look on her face. "Yes."

I stewed for a good twenty seconds. Honestly, the only thing I could think about was flying up to Forks and gutting that motherfucker. I was perfectly aware that it was partially Bella's fault she ended up where she was, but dammit, she didn't deserve it.

"Well, I won't leave you, but that's not say you won't ever decide to leave me. I could promise you until I'm literally blue in the face - and well, sometimes I am - but it still wouldn't matter. So I'll save us both the fucking trouble of failing to alleviate your fears. But I gotta tell you. I don't feel sorry for you. Sure I do because you got your heart broken again, and because you had to suffer through it alone, but.._Christ_."

"You did it to yourself! Jacob basically told you what could and would happen, and you did nothing to protect yourself! That's the most reckless thing you managed to do! You could have walked away from that relationship on your own goddamn terms and maybe you would have still had your friend. Possibly."

"Shut up," she bit out. Her eyes burned with anger.

I couldn't shut up. "But you didn't, because you didn't wanna be left alone again. You wanted to be loved. You thought you needed him but what you failed to realize, was along the way, you healed yourself. Maybe he had a part in it Bella, but we all heal. Even I..._fuck_."

I wouldn't have healed. Not without Bella.

I had to get away from her. I felt like I was running myself into the ground, destroying any progress I might have made. I was more disgusted and more pissed off than ever because she had loved the wrong, fucking person when she should have been loving me.

I should have never have waited.

And she did love him. She told him every fucking day and she had _never_ treated those words lightly. But because of her truthfulness and because she told him in the beginning that part of her left with Edward, he never fully believed he had her.

I shouldn't have hated Jake, but I did. He was just a kid himself, but I thought he was the resilient one that would have stuck by her side, no matter what forces were at work because he hated the hand he had been dealt.

The shit was fucking maddening. I was feeling all her pain with such conviction and such passion, that all I wanted to do was just kill him.

Or thank him. _Fuck_.

I kissed her on her head and got up. I headed to the bookcase but not before I actually _felt_ all the dread and pain that she thought up, because she thought I was walking away from her. She stayed on the couch, frozen with probably the horror of such a thing repeating itself so quickly.

"I'm not walking away from you, Bella. I would never unless you asked me to. But I won't comfort you and express what I feel for you on the matter of Jacob. I understand why you did it, and I'm the last person in the world to judge you or think less of you for loving so profoundly as you do, but I don't feel sorry for you for not knowing what was coming because you didn't want to accept that it would. Not when you're so bright and already experienced heartbreak that hadn't been so long before him. And Bella, you didn't do it for yourself, you did it for him. I don't give a fuck what you say. And look where it got you."

I picked up the dust rag and went to work on the shelf she didn't finish. I heard her get up off the couch, and she walked over on shaking legs over to the bookcase to stand behind me. Her heartbeat was erratic. She was having another attack, but she needed to work herself through it.

I didn't glance back.

"Oh, and another thing. You heard Edward's voice because deep down, somewhere in that stubborn consciousness of yours, you knew he loved you. It was fear for your safety, fear for your soul that made him desperate to leave you. You know, maybe if the guy had experienced a near death experience, it might have thrown things into perspective for him? But figuring he's never come back to you...Well, who knows? Maybe he figured you moved on. And you did. You are."

She started to put the books back on the open shelf. She still had the tremors and she dropped a couple books from her grasp, but she was regaining control.

"You...you really don't think I was crazy?"

I turned to look at her pointedly. Her blotched face and swollen eyes broke my fucking heart.

"No. No I don't. It messed you up. If anything, it helped you heal and it made you stronger. Believe me, I understand why you strove to hear the one thing that gave you comfort. If I told you half the shit that went through my mind or what I felt after Charlotte died, you really, _really_ wouldn't believe me. And you might actually run away screaming."

Her expression changed to one of concern and curiosity. I looked away.

"But that's just my opinion. I refuse to defend anyone's psychosis but my own. It's in my best interests not to do that because it's in my best interests not to ever call you fucking crazy."

There were no words to describe how unsettled; how nervous I became. I was talking out of my ass, partially. I risked a glance. She stood there confused; _and_ stunned, with her mouth agape.

"Besides, even if I thought you were, which I don't, the last thing I would do is _tell_ you. I'm not a fucking idiot. I'm all for team Peter, and what I want. And well, what you want. And I will defend you to a point, no matter how fucking stupid you are. Because I love you, and that's just the way I work."

_But I'll really kill anyone who fucks with you, no matter what. And I would kill for you._

Bella was trying to make sense out of my logic, I suppose. One moment I'm telling her she's not crazy and the next I was. I didn't think she was crazy at all. But maybe I just completely struck on what she was looking for out of this.

Even if she was batshit crazy, I'd still love her.

She was looking at me like she loved me. It was in her eyes, and I couldn't look away. But she looked at me with disbelief, too. And her eyebrows furrowed. I didn't know if I pissed her off, or if I said the right thing after all.

Her heartbeat was picking up again, and she seemed tense. "You're wrong though," she said, her voice just a hair above a whisper. "I would believe anything you told me about what you went through when Charlotte died, and I'd never run away from you."

She looked away and went to clear the next shelf. I thought she was going to say something else, because she hesitated. But she remained quiet.

"Let me ask you something," I said. She didn't look at me, and I couldn't figure out what she was thinking. "What's the worst part about it all now? Do you still love Jacob? And what about Edward?"

She looked at me while putting some books on the floor. There was a tension in the air that I couldn't quite place, but I was pretty sure it was coming from me.

Bella looked like she was thinking hard and trying not to cry when she answered. "No. The worst part is the conditions that I've set for myself; and everyone else. I don't want to ever go back to Forks. I suppose if Charlie ever asked, I would, but he's never done that. He comes to see me. Sue sent me an invite when they got married, but he made it a point to tell me not to come. Not inviting Jake or his wife, would have put her in a bad spot and they didn't need his daughter possibly making a scene. I was all for it," she mumbled out. "Not going to the wedding, I mean."

"Have you talked to Jake at all?"

"Jake got a hold of my address and phone number after I got settled in my apartment. He called once. I just hung up on him and had my number changed. I just don't want to talk to him, ever. I get letters and cards from him all the time, wanting me to come visit, or talk, or forgive him, or...I don't fucking know, be happy for him. And I am. I just..."

"You just don't want to deal with it."

She was standing still, looking at the next shelf to clear. "Yeah, I don't. It's like I can't remember anything good out of the whole thing. I guess it's because I resent him so much, that I just...I just don't care to fix anything. I don't care to hash out everything that happened. Maybe he thinks I'll come to the conclusion that it was for the best or find some peace some how, but it won't change anything. I just don't care to be constantly reminded about it. He doesn't seem to get it. I guess..I guess I just don't care." And she looked like she didn't.

"Sounds like the guilt is eating at him. He wants his friend back, and he wants his imprint, too. What's her name?" I asked.

"Linae," she said, plainly. "They're expecting their first child."

"Yeah. Well, you said he had a big heart. I bet it would just warm it _right_ up to see his best friend and his Linae just all buddy, buddy. 'Hey Linae, this is Bella. She's the girl who popped my cherry and who I dumped so we could be together. She's my best friend. Let's all sit by the bonfire and cozy up, and you both can tell me why you think I'm your own personal Sun, or some shit like that. Oh! Hey! I see every guy's fantasy sitting here beside me, how about a Jacob sandwich'?"

Bella couldn't find it in herself _not_ to laugh, and she grimaced at the same time. "You're awful."

She closed her eyes and shook her head back and forth with a smile before her face became serious again. She took the cleaner and the rag out of my hand and sprayed down a shelf.

"You don't think I'm being a bitch about it, though? I mean, is it wrong of me to just blow it off and not deal with him? I just..I just think sometimes that I'm being awful about the whole thing. That maybe I owe Jake..."

"You don't owe him _dick_. Just because he saved your life and was there for you when you needed somebody, doesn't make what happened excusable, Bella. Jake made his choice, and you made yours. You didn't run from him, you walked away so he could have the life he wanted with no interference, and you did what was best for you. If he can't respect that or accept it, that's his own fucking problem, not yours. Are you happy? Are you happy with your life and the choices you've made now? Do _you _think if you sat down with Jake and hashed it all out that _you'd_ find some solace?"

She stood up straight and look at me with eyes and a face that held resolve. "Yes. No. Dammit, Peter, that's too many questions to ask all at once."

I started laughing because she got confused as to what she was answering.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I mean, I'll always have the memories. I'll always remember what I felt, but facing him won't change anything for me. I am happy. More happier now than I've been in a long time. Even if I hadn't have met you, I'd still be happy with my life. Bored maybe, but happy. You're an asshole." She said as an after statement, because I was still smiling at her.

She was only two steps away, so I walk to stand in front of her. A lock of hair had fallen out from being tucked behind her ear, so I tucked it back.

"Then let him live with it and deal with it on his own. Honestly, after awhile he'll give up and he won't even give a shit. And if he does, well fuck him and anyone else that thinks you owe him anything. They're not here where you are now. They didn't go through the shit so, don't worry about it. It's done. It's over. We don't always have to make amends with those those that have wronged us or who we have wronged. Sometimes it's just better to leave it alone."

She stared into my eyes for a moment. "Is that why you've never tried to fix things with Jasper?"

She was bright, and intuitive. She had her quirks, and I had mine. An empty feeling somewhere inside me started to churn, which was always the case when I thought about Jasper.

I went back to work and started putting books on the shelf. "Sort of. But I never thought I owed him anything and I don't think he did, either. Better not have. But you're avoiding the other half of my original question. What about Edward?"

"I'm not the one whose avoiding anything," Bella grumbled out. She started rubbing the bridge of her nose with both hands. "What about Edward?"

"That's what I'm asking you, Bunny. Maybe you've moved on as far as Jacob's concerned, but has it crossed your mind that maybe somewhere out there, Edward's wallowing in misery because he still loves you? What if he walked up to your door one day and said, 'Bella, I made a mistake. I love you, and I want you back.' Or better yet, what if I hunted him and the Cullen's' down for you and took you to him? It wouldn't be hard. It might take a little time, but I'd find them."

It wouldn't be hard at all. I suddenly felt like I was choking, and I silently begged her to abolish my fear.

My offer had shocked her. "It wouldn't change anything." She said weakly, and with thickness. She just stood still.

"Why not?"

She sighed. "Because, even if that did happen, it wouldn't change anything. I'm older now..."

I interrupted her. "You're not old. You're twenty one."

She threw her hand out like she wanted to slap me. "Would you quit interrupting me, for Christ's sake! I'm not..I'm not that girl no more. I'm not the girl they left in Forks. And even if Edward did show up on my doorstep, it wouldn't change a goddamn thing. Even if he did still want me, I'd still be a human who had a soul that was not for his taking. It would still be too dangerous, it still wouldn't be what was best for me, according to him. And even if he did, and if _I _wanted him again, it would only be a matter of time before he would come to the same fucking conclusion _once_ again."

She was speaking with conviction, very, very passionately and she was animate, too.

"Besides all that, I am older. I'm more independent and I've become..more course over time and with experiences. I'm not the same girl he fell in love with. I don't put up with people's shit, and I don't want him back. I might still have a small place in my heart for him but that just was it is. A place where I can remember one of the best parts of my life. But I don't want him back. And you know what? Maybe now, maybe _he's_ moved on. Maybe he's found someone else, and if he has, well good for him. I don't want to see him. I don't love him like that anymore. Especially not now." She ended softly.

At some point during the animate proclamation of her feelings for Edward I had stood up to face her. The air around me felt heavy, there was something stewing and I wasn't quite sure what to think about it. The only thing I knew was, Bella looked like she was just about to break.

"Why not now?"

She breathed out a huge gush of air and it took her a moment to answer. She started to cry.

"I'm in love with you, Peter. Not just because of everything you've said, but because of who you are. Because you...Oh!"

She didn't need to finish, and I didn't let her. The books on the floor scattered when they were knocked down, and the step stool was kicked across the empty space by a touch of my foot. I didn't even hear it crash into the table behind the couch.

I almost crashed her through the bathroom door. Her head hit before I realized I should have perhaps cradled it with my hand.

But I didn't put her into it that hard. The bruise on her back would be because her backside hit a piece of molding. She didn't seem to care though, even as she cried out, she still grasped onto me and pulled me closer.

Slamming her into the door, her head hitting the way it did, it would have satisfied me if the action had erased every memory in her head when it came to Jacob Black. With Edward, I would want her to keep those she cherished the most.

Realistically, I wish she could just look back on that part of her life without the heartache and just remember that her first real love was a boy who happened to be a vampire; who loved her as much as she had loved him. And maybe she could thank Jacob for letting her go.

She said the words, the words that I had waited nineteen years to hear her say. Words that were not uttered so easily and without conviction in their meaning.

Knowing someone loves you and hearing it can break a man in two. It made me want to cry and confess all my sins to her. It made me want to shout out to the world and Heaven above that she loved me, and there wasn't a thing that any of those fuckers could do to destroy that.

That was all on me. And to keep it from happening, I wouldn't ever tell her the truth. Fuck the truth. I never interfered unless it was because of her safety. And well, to retrieve her things, and kill her truck. After twenty one years, I deserved some happiness myself.

I wasn't going to lose her.

Bella's mouth was searing hot and hungry against my lips and against my tongue. Her strong legs pulled me in as close as they could, and they still tried to pull me in even closer.

She tried clawing into my back and into my neck. I could feel the need and the pain behind it.

Her mouth against mine made the kissing something I never had experienced before. There was no careful control behind it. It was a collision of tongues; of saliva and venom, she bit my lips and I pulled at hers. We could afford to be sloppy now.

When I penetrated her mouth she grabbed onto my tongue, biting and sucking, tasting whatever she could. What only _she_ could.

Her desperate moans and cries fueled my need to be inside her, pulsing into her wet heat, aroused for me. Aroused because she loved me.

Her legs were wrapped high around my mid-section, and the thin pants we were wearing did nothing to restrain my dick from the one place it wanted to always call home. She cried. She cried because she loved me, because she was happy.

Her hands were everywhere. On my back, running all over as much skin as she could touch. Pulling my hair, pulling me closer because I couldn't be close enough until I was inside her. Down my arms, gripping my biceps as I bucked my hips into her. Holding my neck with her left hand as she pulled away from my mouth and pushed her hand between us to free me from my pants. Her face and her eyes were hungry, and filled with desire. She looked into my eyes as I clenched my teeth, when she grasped onto my dick, and pumped me quickly.

Bella did something I never heard her do, and it drove me wild. She growled. She growled for me.

My hips jerked wildly into her grasp. Breath I did not need, slammed into my lungs and my growl echoed throughout the room. Her small palm and fingers, ran up and down my length; the friction in her hand and by her grip passed a shot of heat through me that made it feel like she was burning a hole in my groin. It traveled up my stomach, into my chest and into my head, and all I could feel was sexual hunger.

I ripped my shirt open. I need to see her breasts. I needed to see them heave for me, I need to see them begging for my mouth to kiss them, to suck them, to swallow against her flesh. Her nipples were taut; ready for the taking, and I pushed her upper back against the wall again as she arched up for me. She couldn't hold on to my cock anymore, so she grasped onto my biceps with both hands.

She angled her face up and exposed her neck to me; her breath coming out in wild gasps as she watched me through hooded and lusty eyes. Filled with happiness, drowning in love.

I bent down and caught her left nipple as she arched her breasts even more, sucking her flesh into my mouth without hurting her too much.

I squeezed and kneaded the flesh of her right breast, to the point where it made her cry out. I let go of her just to look at her; passion screwed up her face. Her mouth was agape; her hot breath and scent caressed me; and it fueled me at the same time.

Bella put her hand over mine, and squeezed my hand down on her breast with almost the same amount of strength and desire. She let out a guttural moan.

"This isn't just about sex right now, but if I don't fuck you, I'm going to explode."

"It's not just sex, and if...you don't fuck me, Ahh.. I'm going to die," she cried. And the desperation in her voice and on her face made me believe it.

I pushed her legs down as she held onto me. I grabbed the folded down waist and drawstring roughly, and let my pants sink down to her feet. I pushed my own down, breathing in deeply the scent of her arousal as it seeped down her.

Her skin was hot. She was already covered in sweat. I wanted to lick her clean.

Maybe this was just sex, just a _little_ bit, because the only thing I wanted to do was to see her come and listen to her scream my name as loud as she could. I only wanted one thing, I wanted her walls tightly clenching and pulsing around my cock and I wanted her dripping with my cum, and I even wanted her to lick me clean. I wanted to watch her suck my cock and taste herself. I wanted to watch her swallow some more of my own.

I could dream. I wasn't going to ask for anymore than jacking her up with a pussy full of dick at that moment.

And maybe I wanted Bella to forget my callous treatment of her; but that sure as hell wasn't the way to do it. Maybe I needed to just show her that nothing mattered except for her love. I knew Bella right then believed most of my words, but she still probably felt like I had shunned her in some way when I walked away from her earlier.

So I wanted her to just feel that I was true in my feelings. That I needed her like she needed air.

And maybe, she just needed some raw, fucking relief herself from all the worrying, recollection, and realization she had experienced.

I put my hands behind her knees and lifted her up higher against the goddamn door, spreading her wide as I could.

"Hold on to me with your legs, dammit."

Bella clasped her legs around my hips, locking her feet together on my ass. She squeezed me, trying to pull me as close as she could. I stroked her slit with the head of my cock, and I plunged deep within her forcefully.

We both yelled out in relief. I gave her a moment to adjust; but she swiveled her hips around and pushed against my shoulders almost instantly. She arched her back and I drove deeper. A flash of pain crossed her features and left her mouth. 

"Okay?" I asked, her tight pussy was clenching my cock painfully. She was so hot, so moist, and I could feel her in every nerve of my body. My balls were aching, already tightening, and it took a great deal of my concentration not to just explode.

Fuck _me,_" She cried out quietly.

"I will. I love you."

I pulled out to my tip and I surged forward; plunging into her and watching her eyes roll back into her head. I pulled out of her slowly and slammed back into her, groping and pinching at the flesh on the back of her thighs. Her head lolled forward to rest against my shoulder as she moaned out my name.

That was all it took for my body to leap out of reach from my mind. Yet still it possessed some careful control because it too, was tuned to Bella. I pounded into her, and her hips met me thrust for thrust, my balls slapped against her and I could feel her warm juices coating me.

Her head had snapped back against the door; and she watched me as I pounded into her. Her legs were falling; she was trying to hold on, and failing because I was just moving too much.

She was slipping into that conscious daze where nothing else mattered but the feeling; the ecstasy we were heading towards.

Bliss. It was all over her face. I held onto the back of her thighs firmly, pushing her as far into the door as I dared.

Her whimpers into my mouth as I kissed her were like music, crescendoing to the point where I almost wanted to sing Hallelujah.

I looked hungrily at the pulsing vein in her neck, watching the blood flow hot and heavy through her translucent skin. I stared at her lips swollen with blood; watching them tremble. I wanted once again to taste what was probably the most delicious blood I could ever consume.

And I would.

Bella pushed against my shoulders and I let her push me away as she arched her back. Her breasts danced for me; they jiggled with each pounding thrust, and I realized she was about to come.

She was flushed, her face, her chest, and right breast had streaks of white and red marks where my fingers had traveled. Her nipples were tight little peaks, perfect and sensitive. Waves of her hair stuck to the sweaty skin of her neck. Her face the most beautiful and insanely erotic thing I have ever seen.

"You are so beautiful."

She answered me with the deep resounding moan of my name. I let go of her thigh with my right hand, and she anchored her foot on my hip. I reached down between us to circle and pinch her clit; pounding into her tight pussy relentlessly.

"Come for me, Bella. Let me see you come."

"Fill me. Come with me..."She shuddered out desperately. The sound of her guttural moan drove me insane; and I fucked her more harder and faster than I should have dared. She moaned out my name, over and over, until finally she started saying it frantically.

Bella exploded. Delicious waves pulsed through her pelvis; her hips gyrated and bucked wildly against me. She arched her back, hitting the door again with the back of her head.

I came violently filling her up, the pulsing in her core squeezed it right out of my cock. Electric pulses ran throughout my body, and she continued to milk me for every last drop I had to offer. My own bellowing growl echoed throughout the house.

If Heaven was out there somewhere, I didn't know how much better it could have been. Heaven was with Bella.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

Peter's head lolled forward onto my shoulder. If I didn't appreciate his body before, I was at that point in time. He was - when you were standing up against him naked, with your feet dangling off the floor - a very huge presence. And by all rights, the sexiest man I knew. And it wasn't just that length of him, it was his body; his mind, and his heart.

I loved the feeling of him, I liked the way he was so much bigger than me. And God, did I love him.

He seemed a little spent. His fast breath pricked my skin as he kissed trails down the side of my face and neck. I was hot; my body felt like it was burning up, and the chill was so very welcome. I could feel a knot growing on the back of my head, and my body still echoed with the spasms it had just experienced.

His orgasm was a beautiful thing to witness and very intense. It was almost as if he were being electrocuted, and his entire body quivered. The ecstasy on his face was indescribable.

And there was no way for me to describe really what transpired over the last two hours or so, but I did know a few things. Peter loved me, he could give a shit if I was crazy, and he was a very good listener.

And sometimes he talked out of his ass.

He also thought I was fucking stupid, but I figured out Peter has trouble with words sometimes. I knew he only meant I had made some stupid choices along the way and I would probably make more.

I was sure he would tell me when I did.

I couldn't help but love him. He truly understood what my fears were all about. He understood me. He knew that no promise he could make to me could hold no merit, and it was up to me to work it out and accept that he would be the one who would never leave me.

But he would be there. He would help me work myself through it. He would always be there.

I needed to believe in it, and I at least owed him the effort to try. Time would tell. All I knew was in that moment, I had someone who really understood my position on the matter of Jacob. It wasn't that I didn't appreciate everything he did for me, I did. But I just couldn't find it within myself to ever fix or want a friendship with him. So it was just best to let it all go and live my life.

I would always love and remember Edward and he would always have a small piece of my heart. I cherished the privilege of knowing him and loving him, and I hoped where ever he was, he was happy. But that was all.

The rest of my heart I wanted to give to Peter.

It hadn't felt 'light' in years. There wasn't anything I could see to change that. Nothing at all.

He was still breathing heavily against my neck. His shoulders rising and falling, his back and chest expanding, and my own breathing was paced with his. We were still together, his sex an overwhelming presence in my body.

"Are you okay?" He whispered. His voice was shaky.

I twisted my head to look at him as he lifted it up off my shoulder. He looked more than a little worried.

I looked at him questioningly. "I'm fine. Really. Better than ever."

It was the truth, there was some initial burning when he entered me, but it worked itself out. The only thing that hurt was my head, and even that was minor.

Peter relaxed somewhat. He shifted and pulled out of me. "Are you sure, I mean your head, and your.."

"Really Peter, I'm fine. I might have a little knot on my head, but I've taken a few falls that were _really_ much worse than slamming my head into a door."

He felt the back of my head lightly as I moved my legs and he lowered me to stand on the floor. He had a frown on his face. "Do you want some aspirin?"

"No, I don't want any aspirin, but...I need a towel or something." I was leaking fluids badly.

Peter bent down and removed the pants that were still wrapped around his ankles. He hadn't even stepped out of them. I giggled. I heard him laugh as he eased them between my legs and wiped me off. He placed a kiss on top of my mound and leaned against me, sighing out.

"I'm sorry." His voice was low, filled with a little regret.

"Whatever for?" I looked down at him. He was still erect, a commanding presence between his legs. He looked like he was ready to go for another round.

Peter hunched up his shoulders and looked up at me. "_Well_, usually when a woman tells a man that she's in love with him, it's not really proper for him to just fuck the hell out of her. I should have cherished your body more, I should have taken the time to express what those words meant to me," he said quietly.

I shook my head and smiled at him. "You did. I could see it in your eyes. I'll admit I was a taken off guard, but it was _great_. You don't need be soft with me all the time, you know. A little rough sex is healthy, and fun. And frankly, I needed it. I wanted it."

Peter stood up. "I could have busted you through that door, you know. You wouldn't be saying that then." He put his hands on my waist and pulled me against him. I looked over my shoulder at the door, There was a cracked piece of wood along the molding, half way down. At the same time I was looking, Peter wrapped his arms behind my lower back and I flinched.

He pulled up the shirt I was still wearing and we both look over my shoulder at the growing knot and bruise down on my right side, by my butt.

"Oh, fuck," he said.

"I broke the door."

"Fuck the door, look at that goddamn thing...I think you need some ice. That's huge, and it's getting bigger." It was, it was size of a grapefruit. I saw a guilty look flash across his face. I couldn't feel it as long as he didn't touch it hard, but he wouldn't think it was just nothing.

"It'll be fine. Will you get me some?"

"Yeah. Go lay down, I'll be right back." Peter eyes which were no longer black, still were filled with regret. My legs were like jelly as I grabbed my pants and put them on. I walked over to the couch.

I felt Peter's eyes on me as he walked to the kitchen. I just smiled to myself, he needed to relax.

There was a red throw on the back of the couch and I spread it over the cushions. I grabbed one of the throw pillows on the floor. The clock on the wall read four thirty, the race would be starting at five. I nearly had forgotten all about the race.

I laid on my stomach as I grabbed the remote to turn on the race. The call to post had just started. Peter flitted in with a new pair of black pajama pants on, a dishtowel, and a bag of ice. He pulled the coffee table back somewhat and settled on the floor next to my head as the announcer started talking about his horse.

Peter glanced at the TV while pushing my shirt to the side, putting the towel on my back with a ziploc bag of ice on my growing knot.

"Look at him trot. He's a proud motherfucker. West Side Bernie is gonna leave Mind That Bird in his dust. Or in his mud, more like it. You don't stand a chance." He smiled at me dubiously while stroking my hair, resting his chin on the edge of the couch by my face.

I smiled at him. "Shut up. And it's Mine That Bird, not Mind."

"Whatever," he mumbled while smiling. "It's still a win-win situation no matter how you look at it. I still get to spend time with you either way. The blow job is just an added bonus along with you sleeping in my bed."

"Bragging rights, Peter. You don't strike me as the type to not gloat over winning a bet."

He was being sweet, puckering his lips and kissing me softly on the nose; he was smiling from ear to ear. "You're right. I'll be reminding you of that when you suck my dick."

"Yeah, well..Well, I'll be reminding you of that when you..you change my oil!"

"That's pathetic. Couldn't you think up anything else? Maybe you can think of something while you're doing a lube job on my cock and my balls. Make sure you put some spit into it."

"Fuck. Off."

It was just a little worrisome. I had never given a blow job in my entire life. Sneaking out a couple of his movies seemed like a bright idea because I would most definitely need the FYI on technique.

Peter chuckled silently while staring into my eyes. His were so full of depth and love, it was breathtaking.

He sighed, his smile faded a little. His hand rested on the back of my head; and he was petting me. "How are you? I don't mean physically. If you tell me your fine I'll believe you. I mean here, and here."

He lightly touched my forehead and wiggled his finger underneath my arm, where my heart was.

I was fine, and I was happy. A little emotionally drained and taxed, but I felt good. There was so much to ponder over it was overwhelming. Especially his reaction to Jacob, and the fact that he just took it all so well.

I wasn't going to think about it just yet. Maybe not at all. The only thing that really bothered me somewhat was how quickly everything between me and Peter was happening.

"I'm fine. I feel better knowing you know everything there is to know. I didn't want you to think I went looking for trouble. But I am scared. Scared about how quickly this is all moving. I do love you, but I just feel..."

"Overwhelmed. Bella, nothing has changed. Not in the sense that I'm going to be pushing you into committing to something you're not ready for. You're mine and I'm yours. That's all we need to think about right now. There's still plenty of things we still need to discover about each other. Hell, you might decide you don't want me and all my idiosyncrasies once all my cards are on the table. We're still figuring out what we want to wager. The river card is way off."

"I don't know how to play poker."

"I'll teach you. But I play to win and I'm going all in. In the end, I'll expect you to meet that." He said seriously.

"_Your mine and I'm yours." _"What about all my idiosyncrasies? You do know you're dealing with a partial nut case here. I talk to myself sometimes, plus I fart."

He smiled ear to ear. "I know. You burp, too, but I don't care. You seem to forget that I've had more time with you then you've had with me. Your system is already out of whack. You're worried about shitting in my toilet because you're afraid I'll hear it or smell it. You'll shave your legs and arms every chance you get and even when you get home, because you'll worry that I might just drop by unannounced. Which I will. And make-up does nothing for me, Bella. I have great eyes, I can see past it. But I do like it when you curl your hair."

I could feel the heat in my face but there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. He saw it too, of course. He knew me, and he knew what I needed to hear.

"You are perceptive."

He wiggled his eyebrows. His eyes were full of mischief. "I am. Can I shave your pussy?"

"What!" I just about choked on my own spit. That came out of the blue.

He laughed and kissed my nose. "I want shave your pussy. It's not like I don't like what you already have going on down there, I'd just like you bare. Completely."

"_Oh, My God."_ There was no sound coming out. He wanted shave me. What the fuck does one say to that? He was laughing at the disbelief and the horror on my face.

He was cute. His hair was all over the place from my hands pulling at it. His lips were turned up in a sly grin that made me want to kiss him; and made me remember what they felt like when they were between my legs.

Red eyes. Burning with intensity and making me feel all warm and achy inside. It was dazzling at it's best.

He might have been a freak, but I could stand to experience a thing or two.

"I guess. You're a freak, aren't you?"

"You have no idea. But you'll find out." His eyes filled with dubiousness.

There was no doubt I would. Peter was staring at me, talking to me, but also paying attention to the TV.

"Your horse is on."

We both looked at the TV. My horse looked _tired_. His head was hanging down and there just wasn't any spunk in him at all. The jockey had on a black and white top, and the horse's cover was pink with a big eight on the side.

Peter's jockey was wearing a pink and orange jersey; and the horse had a red cover. His was the number one horse.

I needed a miracle.

"Look at that fucking thing. He needs a nap or a shot in the ass. Borel looks like he needs one himself," Peter laughed out. He took his hand off my head and rubbed both of his together in anticipation.

He was a cocky son of a bitch, and I was going to lose.

"He's just conserving his energy. Who's Borel?"

Peter scoffed at me. "Your jockey, Bella. Pay attention."

"I am." I sat up. Peter sat next to me on the couch and wrapped his arm around my lower back side so he could hold the ice pack. We still had a few minutes left before race would start. He pointed out the favored horses and goaded me a little more. I blew it off. When the horses reached the post, I realized I wasn't going to see this very well.

"I can hardly see this. How am I gonna be able to tell who's where?"

"I'll tell you."

"Of course you will."

We watched as the horses took positions in the gate. Mine put up a little fight when the handler and the jockey tried to lead him in. The track was muddy.

I didn't care if my horse ran next to dead last, just as long as he beat Peter's. He had goaded me enough that I was silently praying that I beat his ass. Not that losing would have been a bad thing. It was a win win situation, but I didn't want to suck his dick under a set condition. What woman wanted to suck dick, anyway? I didn't even know if I had a gag reflex.

I would do it, win or lose. Just because he obviously wanted me to.

The gun went off and Peter sat forward. The horses were out, and I couldn't see shit. All I knew was my horse had dropped off immediately.

"How long is the race?"

"A mile and a quarter. They'll go all the way around once until they reach that red post they're running by right now. Ha, Ha! Your horse..your horse is so far back, it can't even make the camera shot." He's was laughing hard.

"Where's yours?!"

"Mine is in the pack. He's about eleventh, or thirteenth. Yours is in nineteenth." He laughed evilly.

"Come _on_, dammit," I cried out. Peter told me when the horses reached the half mile mark. His horse had dropped back to seventeenth. Mine was still nineteenth.

"Yours is dropping off, don't get all cocky yet, you bastard!"

"Face it, Bunny. You're going down! And you really are, you are going down. And you're gonna Suck. My. Dick!" He was laughing; over exuberant, and gorgeous as hell when he was excited.

"Not until next week, you asshole." I grumbled out.

He shook his head minutely and scoffed. "I don't care. Ooh, Ooh. He's moving up," Peter said.

"Who is?"

"My horse. They're at the three-quarter mark. Keep going, you son of a bitch."

It happened so fast, not even Peter realized what was happening. But I sure did. All of a sudden a blur came onto the screen from all the way back.

"What the fuck?"

"It's my horse! It's my horse! Come on, Bird! Go! Go!"

My horse was gaining ground, it passed four horses hugging the rail. He was like lightning; it was like someone shot him in the ass. Everybody just seemed to move out of his way as he came up. My jockey was covered in mud, but I could still see the pink cover, a little.

"He's on the rail, Bella. He's on the rail!" Peter said, shocked.

"That's good, right? Go you son of a bitch! Go!" He was coming up to Peter's horse. I was jumping in my seat. Peter was frozen. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide.

All of a sudden he growled out. "Elbow that motherfucker, Elliot!"

"He won't have time to, look how fast he's going. Go, bird! _Fly_!"

"Jesus Christ, he just took twelve. Look at that fucker go. Somebody shoot that fucker!" Peter sounded awed, and then he sounded like he really wished somebody would shoot my horse.

They just entered the final turn when my horse blasted into full gear. It was amazing; he weaved in and out, and when he weaved back in he was hugging the rail. He was in first

place on the final stretch, just a hair in front of the leader.

"Oh, my God! Go, Bird, Go!"

"Bella, you're gonna win. I mean you really gonna win. You owe me ten bucks! Go, you fucker!"

I didn't pay attention to what he was talking about. "Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" He just kept going.

My horse crossed the line with nary a horse in sight. I half heard the announcer yell on the TV that he won by nearly eight lengths. It was a miracle.

"I won! He won the Kentucky Derby! We won!"

I jumped up and down and I kissed Peter hard. When I looked at him, I couldn't gloat. He was happy for me. He was shocked, but there was a big smile there, and in his eyes.

"I don't believe it. I just..Jesus. We gotta watch that again. I can't believe your horse just won the derby."

"That's a pretty major upset, isn't it?" I asked.

Peter still had an awed look on his face. We were just sitting side by side, at some point he had grabbed my hand and was holding it. "Yeah," he said sarcastically. "Bella, go out to the foyer and get me ten bucks out of your pocket on your jacket."

I looked at him. "Why? And why did you say I owed you ten bucks, anyway?"

He gave me a look that said 'trust me'. "Just do it. I'll tell you when you get back. Hurry up now." Peter reversed the recording so we could watch the race again. He had a shit eating grin on his face.

I got up and walked towards the foyer. "I won, Peter. You have to clean my house. You have to change my oil, fix my board... I won, Peter."

I had to rub it in, just a little.

"I know, I'm happy for you. My dick's not, but I'm happy for you," he said loudly.

My jacket was hung on a peg in the foyer. I unzipped the pocket and took ten bucks out and went back into the living room. I sat down next to Peter and handed it to him. He didn't look at me, but he was smiling as he put it in his pocket.

He had gotten up while I was retrieving my ten bucks, and had a laptop on top of the coffee table. He was loading up a website.

"What are doing?"

"Cashing in your E-ticket."

"What are you talking about?"

Peter sat back and linked his hands together behind his head. The same smile was there along with an excited look in his eyes. "Bella, you don't pick a horse to win the Kentucky Derby and not make a bet to win. I mean, chances are you lose, but that's the game. I took twenty bucks and put ten on mine and ten on yours."

"That's what the ten bucks is for."

He nodded. "Yep." He leaned forward and hit a tab on the Kentucky Derby's website. "I put your bet under your name. You'll have to answer some questions, and give up your social security and your driver's license number. Shit. They haven't officially called it yet."

Peter switched the TV back to live mode. My horse was still running around on the track. They cut to the owners and the trainer who was crying. "So how much will we win?"

"How much will _you_ win. I don't know yet. I have an idea...Once it's official I'll tell ya..." Peter was watching the TV with a concentrated look on his face.

"No, we're splitting it. You made the bet, you get half."

Peter looked at me. "Bella, don't argue with me. I'd have made you pay me either way. If you need to do something, just buy me something nice like a new shirt or something. And buy a new goddamn shade this week for your bathroom window. That piece of shit you have hanging up now doesn't keep people from sneaking a peek." He laughed.

The _bastard_.

I slapped him hard, right on the arm. My hand stung. "I can't believe you. You are such a liar." I fixed my shirt and tried to pull it close. Peter was eying my breasts as they had become exposed.

"Hey, I caught a glimpse from the tree I hang out in. Don't pretend you don't like the thought of that now. But seriously, that shade needs changed. That old man who lives across the street two houses down is always looking in your windows from his yard."

My mouth fell open and a fresh wave of heat burned in my face. "Oh, for Christ's sake. Reynolds'? He's eighty four. He wears a Speedo when he washes his Buick. He's nice enough, but there's kids around, they don't need to see that."

Reynolds made my neighbor's nervous. He was a sweet old man, he was just a little on the strange side.

Peter was chuckling. "Yeah, well, he must have a thing for the little hot tamale he lives across the street from. Not that I blame him. She puts the 'in' in the word 'sin'. Especially when she runs to the mailbox without her bra on. Your tits bounce and your ass gives us a cute little jiggle."

He said the sweetest things.

"Stop it. Now I won't be able to go outside without thinking he's watching me. Or you are."

"It's up."

The race was official, I won. Peter's horse came in ninth. There were three sets of numbers on the screen. I didn't understand it at all. Peter was on the computer typing in a number off a piece of paper, he was smiling.

"So how much did I win?"

"How much do you think you won?"

I looked at the screen. The number beside my horses name said 103.20. "A hundred and three dollars?"

Peter snorted. "Bella, that's for a two dollar bet. You bet ten. At fifty to one odds, you won five hundred and twelve dollars. In horse racing, it's only taxable if it's six hundred or..."

"I won five hundred bucks!?"

Peter jumped, and laughed. "You won five hundred bucks. You've gotta pay a twenty dollar processing fee, because it's online betting, but yeah, you won five hundred...Oh, for Christ's sake, are you crying?"

And I was. It was a knee-jerk reaction. Peter was getting more than a shirt. He really was being sweet about the whole thing.

"I can't help it. I'm emotional today." I wiped away the tears.

"I'm the one who should be crying. Come on, we gotta put your stuff in. They'll send you the check within forty-eight hours. Congratulations, Bunny, you deserve it."

He didn't pout about it, at all. And he most definitely was going to get his blow job.

Peter typed in my info for me, so they could confirm I was of age. He already had my address in, and the check would come by certified mail.

We sat there for a few more minutes while we watched an aerial view of the replay. Even on the aerial, my horse was out of the picture until it reached nearly the third turn on the track.

I was tired, and he noticed. Twice I had yawned through the replays. I only had five hours of sleep the night before, and I felt drained.

"Why don't you take a nap. I'll finish the bookshelf and I'll start cooking you're dinner." He said softly in my ear, kissing my cheek. I was leaning against his chest. Somewhere along the lines, we had both forgot about the knot growing on my back. He was holding the ice pack again.

"What are you cooking?" I really wasn't hungry. My gut felt off.

He chuckled. "Spaghetti and meatballs, with garlic bread."

"I should have known," I groaned out.

He laughed quietly, kissing my face some more. "Don't worry. I know you're stomach's a little off. I'll save it for tomorrow. How about a grilled cheese sandwich and some tomato soup?"

I sat there for a moment pondering on just how well he was picking up on my idiosyncrasies. It was days like this, after I experienced some type of emotional turmoil, that I ate light. I ate soup. I ate grilled cheese sandwiches. If he gave me a small pickle on the side, I'd love him more.

"That sounds really good. But you don't have to cook it, you still have work to do. I'll do it when I get up."

"No, I'll have it almost ready when I wake you up. With you out of the way, it'll only take me a couple minutes to clean the rest of the bookshelf. Plus, I'll get the rest of the trusses done. You cleaned my house, and now I'm gonna take care of you. Thank you."

Peter stood up and got me the pillow. I laid on my stomach and he stuck the ice pack on my back. It was too warm for the blanket, so he kissed me and said he would wake me up in an hour.

I listened to him work as silently possible while he cleaned the rest of the bookcase. I went out quickly, thinking about what I could buy Peter. I hadn't a clue.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

Fifty to one odds. When that fucker was on TV for the call to post, he looked like he just finished grazing off the neighborhood stink weed patch.

I was happy for Bella, I wasn't gonna pout or be glum about it. She won, fair and square. And I was so glad, so glad I made that bet. She deserved it, especially after I practically beat the shit out of her mentally and physically.

I tried not to think that way, but I couldn't help it. She had never taken her own physical welfare into account, even when she was with those other two bozos. To her it was nothing. To me, that knot on her back was a warning to be careful. She was human and I wasn't.

She had been through a lot of shit. And if she thought she was weak in any way, and not enough for me, she was dead wrong.

If I apologized, and if I let the guilt I felt show, she wouldn't stand for it. She would always put everyone's needs and feelings before her own. Jacob not included, because the fucker didn't deserve to be. But what she wanted was what I gave her, and I had wanted it, too.

It used to hurt just look at her from far away. Which was where I wasn't no more, and what I had no intention of never going back to again, ever. Hurting her in any way was going to be completely impossible, but I damn well was gonna try to be the best man I could be.

Whatever was ahead for us was now unknown. And maybe that was how it was supposed to be. It wasn't going to get any easier, by no means.

Her future was on my mind. A future with me. And there was two big issues that was going to need to be talked about at some point. That was only if she wanted forever.

My diet was the other. I would want her to conform to my way. But if she couldn't do it, I would still be happy because she stuck to what she believed was right.

I'd go along with whatever she wanted. We would have to be a unit, we would have to do it together, because that's just the way it needed to be. It sure as hell would have made things a lot more simpler, in a way.

And I was half tempted to try the vegetarian lifestyle out and buy that fucking horse to give it a go. That tricky motherfucker.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

Peter woke me up at seven when he looked at my back. I was silently thankful that the knot had shrunk a little. Peter wasn't happy about it, but he was a little more accepting. I just told him that _we_ would have to be more careful next time things got out of hand, and if I ever felt any pain, I would tell him. He was satisfied with that. If I tried to blow it off as nothing, I think that would have been worse.

I couldn't help but think though, about the control it took to keep himself in check. Control I wish he didn't need, but I was thankful he had. We didn't need any accidents happening.

My soup and half of a grilled cheese sandwich were ready, and I had a pickle to boot. Peter had finished his final numbers for the trusses and had emailed them off to that Parker guy. According to him, he was officially mine and I was officially his for the rest of the night. We both thought of the same thing. A shower because we felt grimy after cleaning.

He wanted to watch the sunset out on his 'back porch', because he hadn't been outside all day. Plus he thought it was only proper to give me five minutes of romance after fucking my brains out.

That was funny.

We were going to watch To Kill A Mockingbird that night, there wasn't much on TV. Peter took his shower while I ate my dinner. He had heated me up a can of Campbell's tomato soup, used milk instead of water, and sprinkled it with a little basil. It was pretty good. He even baked a batch of blueberry muffins so I could have a hot one for dessert, and for breakfast the next day. It was delicious.

He was just amazing.

I showered after I ate. I shaved again. Peter laid me out a black t-shirt and a new pair of gray pajama pants. I used the hair dryer and the curl brush that was in the drawer and fixed my hair some.

It was cool out when I walked outside the glass door set inside the vast window. Peter was lounging in the middle of the patio sofa with his feet up on the table. He was still bare from the chest up, shining like a brilliant diamond bathed in amber, with red eyes that looked like they were actually on fire. Peter was wearing a pair of dark blue sweats. He had a blanket and a cup of coffee waiting for me.

I curled into his right side, leaning back into his arm, and wrapped my arm underneath his back. I drank my coffee while we watched the sky and Santa Fe come to life.

The sky was brilliant with streaks of orange and red through wisps of clouds, and the sun was over the Jimez mountains and they looked as if they were on fire. Birds were settling in for the night, and the bats were out already hunting for bugs and moths as they flew through the air.

We sat in comfortable silence most of the time, the clouds were rolling in from the east. Peter told me it was supposed to be cloudy again tomorrow with a chance of thunderstorms.

The sky was darkening quickly, and the moon was out of the west when he finally spoke. His voice was quiet, smooth, and deep. It shocked me, at first.

"You know, when I was human, I used to think I'd be lucky to have any woman love me. And I swore to myself then, whoever she was, I'd love her for my entire life. When I became a vampire, that didn't change. When Charlotte died, that was it. I never thought that there would be another for me someday, but I do know that this is it for me."

I wasn't looking at him. He grabbed my chin lightly and turned it towards him. His eyes burned with intensity, straight into my nerves and into my bones.

"I'm an honorable man, Bella. I'm rough and scarred around the edges, but, I think we all are in someway. I can piss you off at the drop of a dime, and I can fuck up and say the wrong things without even thinking about the impact they have on you. But you need to know that no matter what, I love you and I already feel that I cannot exist without you."

He breathed out hard and shook his head a little. "I can't even function right anymore. I'm forgetful of everything but seeing you and being with you. It took me half the day to do what would normally take me a couple hours to do because I couldn't think of anything else but you. I'm not just altered, I'm absorbed. So try and love me without fear that I would ever leave you, and know that I more than understand that it only takes a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone, too."

He smiled lightly and his finger traced trails around my face. "You take the time you need to come to terms with all of this. I'll wait as long as you need me to. But I'm showing you my cards, and my bet is already on the table."

He wiped away the tear that had fallen.

I nodded frantically. "Okay." It was only a whisper, but he heard it.

He kissed me firmly, not seeking entrance of any kind. I already figured out that when he kissed me like this, it was because he was expressing true feelings; and the love he had for me left me staggered.

He wasn't looking for anything but for that to be returned, and I returned it wholeheartedly.

When we broke away we sat in comfortable silence once again. My mind was going over his words at a constant rate, and I wanted to just break down and cry because I was so lucky to have Peter. And I did have him. But I wanted to know more about the woman who had him before, who probably loved him just as strongly as he loved her.

My head was resting against his chest when I asked. "Tell me about her. What was she like?"

It was the wrong question to ask.

I was met with silence, and it felt like time stopped moving, because he froze. The fingers that had been caressing my arm stopped, and so did his breathing. The only way I knew time was still moving was because Peter began to tremble.

Immediately I thought he was angry, but when I looked up to his face, all I saw was devastation that was unparalleled to anything else I ever witnessed before. In anybody.

He looked at me like he was shocked. Not because I asked, I don't think. But because of how he was reacting. The tremors he was experiencing racked his entire body.

"Peter?" I whispered, unable to keep the worry out of my voice.

He just looked into my eyes desperately. I don't know, it was like he was trying to figure out how and if he could answer that without falling apart, and that's exactly what he looked like. He looked like he was going to fall apart. Gone was the light and depth that shined through his eyes; gone was the smile, or just the content and peaceful look that his face would carry when he was doing something. The only thing he was doing now was looking like he might crack into a million pieces, or just burst and be no more.

"Peter," I moved to sit up more and he held me in place.

He took a breath, a small one, a shudder racked through his chest. "She's exponentially the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

And then the phone from inside rang.

I wanted him to ignore it, but on the second ring, it was like he broke free from the massive wave of grief that pulled him under and he surfaced a little.

His voice sounded choked and he was still shaking. "I have to get that. It's probably Parker."

And he was gone. I had to catch myself from falling down on my face on the couch.

I sat there a minute trying to grasp on to the thought of Peter's reaction because there wasn't no emotional feeling I had ever had that could even remotely compare to that. It didn't take me long to figure out, that the reason he reacted so badly, was probably because he had never really talked about it before with someone else. He kept it inside, all to himself.

He had accepted she was gone. He wasn't afraid to mention her name, or use her as a for instance, but my question took him off guard. He had to expect it though, didn't he? Or did he just not even think about it? I was going with the latter.

Peter _was_ an honorable man. It was only safe to say that even as a human, the values he was instilled with when he was a child, were still very present in the man he was today. There could never be another woman because he simply couldn't look at another like he looked at the one he loved.

I took into account that Peter was with Charlotte for over forty seven years. A lifetime for some; and Peter probably thought at one time he would be with her forever.

There was no way I could relate to him with experience in this matter; but I sure as hell could understand it. The heartbreak I had experienced would have never killed me, I just thought it would have at times in the past. But what Peter lost, what he experienced, had indeed killed a part of him.

Charlotte had been Peter's mate, he had loved her and he had spent almost a half a century with her. Time didn't make their love dwindle—it strengthened it.

And probably over time, the were a perfect and uniquely matched pair; who knew each others thoughts, habits, and faults. They both probably appreciated every little thing the other did.

She had essentially, been the other half of him. His mate. It gave new meaning to the word.

The answer I was searching for was as clear as a cloudless day. I would not broach the subject again. If it was easier for him to not think about it, to not discuss it, I would respect that.

He didn't need to tell me these things in order to move on, because he already did. Peter existed because he had to, and it took him twenty one years to heal just enough to realize he could love another again.

If it never happened, if he could never tell me about her, it would be okay. Over time, it would just make me love him more to know that he loved so deeply; and so very pure in it's own right.

I could be so lucky to love like that. And I did love him. But something deep inside me told me I needed to wait before I told him that I did want him, and I wanted him forever. It wasn't because I was unsure, it wasn't because I was holding out for something better.

I didn't know what the hell it was. I guess I was still afraid that this would go bad; just like my prior relationships had. Or maybe I just hadn't had enough time for all of it to sink in.

Time we had. I would give it a little. I would let myself get used to the idea, and then I would meet his bet. There was plenty of things to work out, and the most important one was my fate. My humanity. My family; and the ultimate sacrifice. I just couldn't think about everything that would mean at that point.

I could hear him talking inside the house. It was Parker, and they were talking about a set of figures Peter had sent. I walked inside and closed the door. Peter still looked a little shaken, and he was pacing in front of the island.

He sounded subdued. He looked at me as if he was expecting me to be upset or something. I just smiled like nothing even happened.

He was tense. "Parker, hold on."

He took the phone away from his ear and clasped his hand over the mouthpiece. "I screwed up one of the specs. Parker's fixing it for me, but I have to..."

"It's fine. Take your time. Take as long as you need." I told him softly and nodded at him quickly.

I guess maybe in a way, I was answering the concern in his eyes for what he probably thought was an abrupt and rude ending to the conversation outside. He stood there for a moment just staring at me with no emotion showing at all. But his eyes were soft. He seemed to relax a little.

He gave me a shaky nod and went back to the phone. He walked briskly over to his work area, looking at his drawings and his computer.

My nerves were on end, though. I couldn't drink anymore coffee, so I washed the pot and my cup. After a human moment, I went back into the living room. Peter was still on the phone with Parker; but he had started a fire in the fireplace underneath the TV.

I settled down into the makeshift lounging area full of a sea of pillows with the remote. I switched over to AMC. It was chilly inside the house, the heat from the fire place warmed my legs.

To Kill A Mockingbird wasn't on; the program guide was messed up. Airplane was on. The movie had been made before I was born, and I only saw parts of it growing up.

The two jive brothers were on and I couldn't help but laugh at a conversation that made absolutely no sense at all. I didn't change the channel, it made me forget about things for a little bit.

Minutes later; I was watching Captain Oveur, Roger Murdock, and Victor something, getting the plane ready for take off.

"_Flight 2-0-9'er, you are cleared for take off."_

"_Roger!"_

"_Huh?"_

"_L.A. Departure frequency, 123 9'er"_

"_Roger!"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Request Victor, over."_

"_What?"_

"_Flight 209'er cleared for vector 24."_

"_We have clearance, Clarence."_

"_Roger, Roger. What's our vector, Victor?"_

I glanced at Peter when I heard him laugh. He was standing away from his area - still on the phone - looking at me and the television.

Parker must have asked him what was so funny or something. Peter spoke into the phone. "Oh, nothin'. My girlfriend's watching Airplane."

He started talking about some design so I went back to watching the movie.

It was a minute later when the light over in his area went out, and then the light on the end-table by the chaise. The only light left on was from underneath the kitchen cupboards, and the light created from the TV and the fireplace.

Peter walked over and stood underneath it with a solemn look on his face. He looked, nervous. The firelight danced off his skin, and gave him color. He looked almost human.

"Hi," he said, quietly. I paused the movie.

"Hi." I smiled.

He cleared his throat, and looked at my body. "What happened to Mockingbird?"

"Dish screwed up the programming guide again. It's not on until One, I think."

"Oh."

There was just a small moment of silence. He grimaced.

"Bella, about earlier. I don't think, I don't know how..."

"Peter, stop. I _know_. Believe me when I say it, but I understand. It doesn't matter if you ever find the words. I'll wait as long as it takes; and if you can never tell me, well, that's fine too."

He shook his head a little. "That's not fair to you."

"Yes, it is. Look, there are things I will never tell you, because I believe I'll cherish them more without letting another see them. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't care, and neither should you."

He was silent for a moment. "I will tell you, Bella, because you deserve to know what she was to me and what she is to you. I just can't do it right now," he whispered.

His face was wary. It was like he was trying to tell me something. His words left me curious, but I passed it off because he sometimes had trouble with them when he was nervous, or even scared.

I nodded at him. "Alright. Like I said, I'll wait as long as it takes."

He didn't say anything for a moment. '"Okay."

He just stood there silently staring at me. 

"Are you done? Can you watch TV with me?" I asked softly.

"Yeah, of course."

Peter got down with me in the pillows immediately. He was tense, and he looked uncomfortable. He made no effort to touch me, or I him. We just stared at each other for a moment, trying to figure out how to break the ice, I guess.

"Airplane, huh?"

I laughed. "That's what Roger said. It seems the shit has hit the fan all day long, now we can just watch it hit on TV. You don't mind watching it, do you?"

Peter smiled and he also melted. With a large sigh, he reached out and pulled me closer. I snuggled into the crook of his arm as he reached around me to pull the pillow I had supporting my back under my backside.

"No, I like Airplane. I like the sequel, too." I was watching him, he was still a little solemn, but at least he seemed to relax.

"It's on after this is over. Did you get things straight with that Parker guy?" I asked.

He sighed again, relaxing more. "Yeah, he's gonna get things expedited and have a couple guys start building them as soon as tomorrow. If all goes well, they should be in Sweetwater by the end of the week."

"That's good, right? I mean, it's a few more days earlier than you thought."

"Yeah, it is. Parker's good to us. You know, ever since I started using him, his profits tripled and he's expanded out to the northwest? I've used him for building reinforcements and trussing for almost ten years. I haven't even really met the guy..."

Peter talked a little more before he finally told me to start the movie. I offered to start it over, but he told me no, he remembered most of it anyway.

We watched the movie. We laughed, we kissed, and we touched each other lazily occasionally. He was back to his old self in no time at all. At least on the surface.

We made love half way through the second movie. There wasn't a place on my body that went untouched in some way. His kisses across my skin were light but always intense. His hands and fingers explored places on my body where I never thought I could feel such pleasure. He really took his time.

There were whispered _I Love You's_ across bare skin or by lips brushing the ears. Even then, I couldn't imagine life without him.

He carried me to bed after I fell asleep on top of him. I woke up long enough to go the bathroom and drink some water. I fell asleep facing him; holding onto him as tightly as he held onto me.

I had a dream that night, a dream I hadn't had in years. It used to be my nightmare. There were no monsters in my dreams, there was only nothing. Just the endless maze of the moss-covered trees that thrived on the Olympic Peninsula; and it was so quiet, that the silence was an uncomfortable pressure against my eardrums.

It was dark, like dusk on a cloudy day; with only enough light to see that there was nothing to see.

I hurried through the gloom without a path; searching and growing more frantic as time stretched on. I passed by two voiceless figures; one pale, the other dark, and tall. But they were so blurred, I couldn't see who they were.

Moving faster, believing there was nothing to find. Sill I moved, faster and faster. The speed made me clumsy again. There was just nothing, nothing to see, nothing to find. This was usually when I woke up screaming.

"_Bella." _A voice on the wind called my name.

There was a light, and I ran towards it, without falling down. The harder I ran, the further away it seemed. Until I ran without effort, ran without feeling my feet touch the ground; until I finally reached the edge of the forest.

"_Bella!"_ The voice sounded pissed. It was deep, and it was closer. So very close.

When I stepped through the trees, he was there.

His back was to me, and the scenery changed. We were in the desert, the sand warm beneath my feet. We were beside a canyon of some type, but I couldn't take my eyes off of him.

He was standing in a circle of stones wearing a black, long sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. He was barefoot and there was smoldering ash at his feet. He slowly turned around, kicking up some smoke.

His eyes were different. They were a bluish gray, and they were steel.

Peter, the human. My Peter.

He smiled victoriously.

"_It's about goddamn time. It took you long enough."_

I woke up, Peter was shaking me. I was crying and laughing at the same time.


	13. Chapter 12 PATWAP Part III

Chapter 12. Pledging Away the Weekend At Peter's Part III.

Beautiful Distractions and Grumpy Gardeners.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Sort of picks up where the last chapter ended.**

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***P*E*T*E*R***

Time.

Time sucks the big one.

I had existed long enough to know that only during the best of times did it move swiftly. The moments we cherish the most seem to occur within the blink of an eye. Only when they have passed do we wish we could have taken more from the experience or the feeling.

Those moments we wish we could forget, or those we wish we never had to withstand, seem to stop or slow the passage of time. We're left with living through what is sometimes the self-induced torture of waiting through events that are both life altering and sometimes destructive.

Throughout the years, as I waited for Bella to grow, as I sometimes watched and knew she was enduring those times that were the most difficult, I had to teach myself to endure it. She had to find her own way. I knew that with each bad experience, she would take some knowledge and experience from it and persevere through it all. It didn't mean it didn't tug at my heart to know and to see, though, that it tugged at her heart. And sometimes it just downright broke it. Or broke mine.

Sometimes it was even the simplest of things. But things nonetheless that brought a tear to her eye. Like when she was learning to tie her shoes. She was worried because she was in the first grade and she was unable to tie her shoes. So when it was a rainy day, and she was off to school, she would sense her teacher's frustration when she had to ask for help after slipping off her boots. She lacked the precise coordination it took to pull that string through to complete what some perceive was such a simple act.

I didn't think there was a five or six year old out there in the world that didn't swell up with pride when they finally tied that bow.

It was bittersweet. Watching her practice and practice at the dining room table after school on October 23, 1993 with just the babysitter in Renee's house. The babysitter was a piece of fucking shit and could give a rat's ass because a six year old finally tied a knot. She was too busy talking to Blake on the goddamn phone.

That smile, that look that looked like she just conquered the motherfucking world, should have been seen by all who loved her. Instead she was alone.

But she wasn't alone. I had seen it. And I was elated and punching a hole through the goddamn retaining wall at the same time.

I endured it, alright.

I endured everything she had to go through. I went through the motions of getting myself together. But there was that one thing, that one issue that I, myself, never persevered through and made my peace with.

Charlotte.

Charlotte.

I had accepted her death. The day she was killed I had accepted that she was gone.

Our forever was gone. That which should have graced the earth forever was taken away from its physical boundaries, and away from me, in the blink of a mortal man's eye. Dealing with my own heartbreaking moments was something I put off for when I could, and I ended up not dealing with it at all.

"_Look at her, Peter. Look at her! You took away the only goddamn good thing that ever happened to me, and you damn well are going to know what that feels like now. Existence as an immortal? You can learn to exist without her. You are a survivor, after all."_

"_Maria, NO!"_

I wanted to wake Bella up.

But I didn't wake Bella up. I disentangled myself from Bella's warm and naked body. I got out of bed and headed out into the living room.

It was quiet. Not that it wasn't supposed to be. But even in the world outside, there seemed to be a haze blanketing the sounds around the mountain. No chirping from the crickets, no fluttering of a bird's wings taking nighttime flight to another tree, no traffic noise filtering up from the freeway.

The mind of a vampire was both a blessing and a curse. It didn't take a fucking genius to figure that out. Bella's question had essentially thrown me off guard. Sure, in the future I used to know she had asked about Charlotte and, sure, I could very easily tell I had a difficult time talking about her. But I felt the agony all over again. I relived that moment over and over after Bella asked about Charlotte. What felt like a never ending spiral was only two seconds of feeling like my heart was being ripped out again.

And I fell apart. Goddamn it. Goddamn it all to hell.

The fact was, Charlotte died violently. Her limbs were torn away and she was to watch them as they burned.

We both were. Expressing that, talking about that with Bella, was just something I couldn't do.

Blue and violet flames. Violet turning into the deepest and darkest purple, and it was uglier and more vile than the blackest black.

Her clothes torn off, she lay on the desert floor in a ring of stones that had held fire once before. The vile fuckers laughed at her naked, and then deformed, body. Maria ripped chunks of her flesh from her, throwing her carelessly into the fire because she wouldn't scream.

Like she was garbage. Like she was a piece of lint on her pretty, fucking pink dress. Like the countless others forced to do her bidding. And when they had done enough, their payment was death.

She wouldn't scream. She just wouldn't scream.

Maybe it was because her mate was doing it for the both of them. My weakness was exposed, laid out for all to see. Because if there was one way to bring me down, killing Charlotte was it. Maybe it was because she didn't want to give the cunt the satisfaction of hearing her own defeated voice. Maybe it was because she had already died.

I had watched the life leave her eyes right before Maria had performed the first act of her declaration.

It had been goodbye. A final 'I love you' spoken silently across her lips.

That was the memory I relived all over again. There was no other memory that I had longed to forget, and I fucking couldn't. And with just such a simple question, I lost it all over again.

Perfect recall and all that. What a fucking curse.

I missed her. So much it still hurt, and it still knocked the hell out of me. And I didn't think that would ever change.

I was watching a Boeing 727 head towards the runway out at the airport through the window in the living room when the only thing that I would lock every memory away for spoke.

It broke the surreal silence that had filtered into the house. It instantly killed the roaring pain that flowed through my stomach and my chest. It was such a soothing sound, and I focused on the vital heart that it belonged to.

She was my past, my present, and my future now.

"No..."

It was simply mumbled out, but there was a bare hint of desperation to her tone. Her heartbeat was elevated. She was breathing faster and deeper. I heard her legs twitch and jerk beneath the covers. I moved quickly to the bedroom.

Bella was lying in the middle of the bed. The sheets and blankets had been thrown off a little from where I had previously tucked them tightly around her. Her right leg jumped in place. It was obvious she was dreaming, and from what I knew, she was running.

It was that motherfucking dream. The one that Edward Cullen gave to her. I had to bite back the urge to just grab her and shake the hell out of her. The truth was that I shouldn't have been surprised she was having it again. Yesterday's conversation, no matter how eye-opening it was, had taken its toll on her subconscious. But it was times like that, watching her searching for the answer that she would never find, that would make me think of twelve different ways to dismember that son of a bitch.

As much as Edward held strong to his belief that humans were to be valued and respected as beings with feelings and souls, I couldn't find it within myself to truly believe that he appreciated them. If he had truly appreciated Bella, if he had valued her feelings as genuine, and as whole, he would have told her the truth. Instead, it was much easier to eviscerate what little self-worth she had.

The two women in my life had at least that one thing in common. They both had eyes that had a direct connection to their souls. And although Bella didn't die, it sure did seem like she had during that moment when Edward told her she wasn't good for him. I guess the kicker was that he had seen it, too, and still ran away from her. He loved her. He probably still did. But he never valued her or her love. He could never understand that it was priceless.

I wanted to rip his dick off. I wanted to hold it up to his face and tell him that he was not good enough to be a man, and that he had no right to retain the organ of one.

The blanket was thrown back, still covering part of her abdomen, and she was on her back. One arm was thrown back above her head on the pillow. Bella's right hand was gripping the blanket. Her breasts were heaving with each breath. Her nipples were hardened, but not drawn out completely from the cold air. It was a little colder than when I had left this room.

Her face was drawn when I got back into bed. The worry lines on her forehead were more pronounced. I straightened out the covers, pulling them up to cover us both, as I slid in on my side next to her, watching her face. Watching her eyes move frantically behind her closed lids.

She was whimpering softly. I could see her jugular throbbing in her neck. A tendon in her lower jaw twitched. She kicked her right leg.

"Bella, wake up. You're dreaming." I touched her cheek and her whole body spasmed.

She cried out loudly, "Wheerrrre."

I grabbed her arm and shook her. "Bella, wake up."

She whimpered again, this time jerking her knee completely to the side. Right into my nuts.

_Oh, for the love of God..._

Bella's head started shaking from side to side. Her warm, quick, and short breaths came heavy through parted lips, caressing my face. I could smell the salty fragrance from the sheen of sweat that covered her exposed shoulders, the nape of her neck, and her blood-filled cheeks. The veins in her neck were pulsing with thick and delicious blood. Her left arm, which had been laying over her head, was now flailing a little. Her right hand was starting to pull the covers off again.

Tears fell from her eyes and she started to sob.

"Bella, wake up, goddammit. You're having a fucking nightmare."

As soon as I said her name, she stilled. I almost thought she had woken up, but her eyes were still twitching behind her lids. She was sleeping deeply. She shouldn't have been dreaming.

And then she started to laugh.

_Jesus H. Christ_.

"Bella!"

Her lids snapped open. She looked around, frantically trying to focus for a moment in the dark. She was still laughing and crying at the same time.

"Peter..." she choked out, focusing in on my face above hers.

….

I had come to the conclusion that I would never understand women. In all of my one hundred years...okay, not one hundred years, more like when I first discovered they were just too complex and too fucking moody...which made it about ninety-five years, you just have to acquiesce to whatever it is that they wanted. For your own fucking peace of mind. And your safety.

I was a very smart man. But Bunny had a knack for really throwing me off kilter. Which was probably why I loved her with everything that I was, and everything that I had.

So when I saw her tear-stained face, which had held such a look of confusion because she had just woken up, flicker with something I didn't recognize, I shouldn't have been confused. But, confused was what I was. I was perched up on my left elbow, and I watched that look of confusion melt away into what I believed was the most relieved look her face had ever held.

And as quick as it flashed across her eyes, and across the set of her lips, it was replaced with what could only be described as the 'I will not fucking fail' look of all looks.

And she wouldn't fail. Because Bella was my weakness, and I would give her anything she could have ever possibly wanted if I had it to give.

She let out a whimper and quickly reached up to grab me by the back of the head while lifting herself up.

"Peter..." she cried out, and her lips found mine with all the brute force she could muster up.

She moved her hand to my shoulder and pushed hard. Not hard enough for me to budge, but it was obvious she wanted me down.

I kissed her back softly, but her lips were frantic. I couldn't help but laugh a little at her reaction. I couldn't understand it. One second she was crying and laughing, and the next she was trying to take advantage of me.

Which was just fine.

I slowly laid back and let her take control, but when I laughed against her lips, Bella took it as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, and her warm little tongue shot into my mouth. I grabbed the sides of her head quickly and pulled her back a little.

"Bella, be careful." Her breath was hot, her scent to be consumed. Her blood. It was not for my taking. I ignored the flames that licked up the column of my throat. It was easy to do when it came to her.

Tears still sat in the corners of her blazing eyes, and she looked at me for a moment with barely a hint of understanding. Her lips were still on mine, but she had drawn back just for a moment. I wasn't quite sure why it was important, but she obviously needed to be in control of this. She wanted to be. Her lips grabbed a hold of my top lip, and she sucked it firmly between hers. I sighed against her lips and she did it again, and then her tongue entered my mouth much more slowly.

It was dangerous. It was stupid to let her do it. But it was a wonderful relief to feel her _in_ me.

I noticed and burned into memory every little movement, every little caress of her tongue as I met hers with mine. Every little swipe at the roof of my mouth, and I held perfectly still as she so ever lightly grazed her tongue over the bottom of my top teeth. I moved my lips and grabbed hers, sucking her bottom lip firmly into my mouth. Her moan sent an electric jolt through my chest and down into my balls. My cock was already twitching hard against her thigh.

Bella worked her way in between my legs, and we were close enough to the edge that I had to let my right dangle off the edge. Her fingers from her right hand ran down my jaw, touching my ear, my neck, my Adam's apple. Small touches, none of which held trepidation. Instead they held desperation. It was like she couldn't stand to not touch me in some way.

I listened to her whimper and moan out, and as much as I should have stopped her, I couldn't find it in myself _to_ stop her. Whatever the fuck had brought it on was clearly something that needed to be discussed, but I wasn't a dumb bastard. My ass was always looking for a distraction from going fucking nuts, and Bella had always been the number one person to supply it.

Her little left hand, with her palm flat and her fingers splayed out, ran over my shoulder and around my chest. I ran my hand down the length of her back, caressing her spine and the sides of her ribs with just my fingertips, and she shuddered against me. I palmed and squeezed her ass, pulling her closer so she could feel every inch of what she was doing to me. I groaned out, purring into her mouth when I smelled the wetness seeping out of her.

Bella broke away from my mouth, gasping and kissing the corner of my lips, moving down my cheek. She kissed and licked the skin of my jaw, down my neck, and over my shoulder. She kissed my scars gently. I could feel her hot breath seeping into my skin the entire time, and it felt like I was being burned, but in a delightful way. She was running her hands all over me, rolling my right nipple with the pad of her thumb while she licked the other one and bit down gently.

I nearly bucked her into next Tuesday.

"Jesus Christ, Bella." And I suddenly couldn't catch my breath. Her left hand had worked its way down to my hip, and she had found my cock and stroked my length with her fingertips. She moved her fingers down to my base and rolled her thumb around on the underside.

I caressed her arms as she moved further down, and her face rubbed against the hard skin of my abdomen as she continued to lick and suck every part of me within reach of her lips. I could feel her warm skin brushing against mine, her breasts and her taut nipples as they dragged down my body. Her hair and every strand that was dragging and stroking across my skin tickled in such a delightful and erotic way. I knew where she was headed. And I wanted it. I wanted to see her wrap her lips around me. I wanted to feel every little detail of her mouth as she sucked on me.

But, I still had to ask because I was a dumb fucking moron who was still struck stupid because I had no idea what had brought this on.

I swallowed the venom that had pooled in my mouth, and I quit growling and purring long enough to spit the words out.

"Bella. What..." I swallowed again, and breathed in, "what...are you doing?"

Her right hand was gripping my side, and I watched her drag her bottom lip up against the side of my belly button, lifting her head just slightly to open her eyes and look where she thought my face was. She gripped me in her hand and squeezed gently as she pumped my cock slowly, running the tip of her thumb over my opening, pressing against it.

"I want you in my mouth. I need you. I lo...ou..." she murmured out, and she would say no more. The need to heavily assault and penetrate my belly button with her tongue was far more pressing, and I could feel my nerves tingling in my back.

.

.

.

Okay...

Those words spoken softly across her lips would have stopped my heart if it could still beat. I let go of her right arm and gripped the bed sheet in my hand to quell the need to hold her in some way too tightly. She was torturing me. It was wonderful, it was perfect, it was worrisome. I was aching, pulsing in her hand as she moved her assault with her lips to my hip. Finally, I felt her hot tongue lick the skin underneath the base of my cock.

I immediately let go of her left arm and reached down to grip the side of the mattress. I arched up into her mouth, watching her look up real quick and smile just slightly as her tongue slid around my cock. She was swirling her thumb around my head when she felt a drop of cum seep out. Lifting her mouth away from me, I watched her barely open eyes study my cock. Or, at least I think she was. For all I knew, she might not have been able to see a thing.

She took her slightly opened mouth and dragged her lips from my base to my tip_._ Locks of silky hair fanned out across my hips; my thighs. Her face was perfection—focused, and overflowing with lust.

"Bella..."

Her tongue shot out, licking away my cum, and I watched her draw it back into her mouth, tasting me. She moaned a little and closed her lips around the head of my cock. Her left hand gripped me at my base, and she worked her tongue around me, sucking me lightly as she pumped me slowly. Her lips clamped down, she moaned again, and the hum sent jolts of pure heaven into my stomach, through my back, and down my legs.

A surge of heat like nothing I've ever felt traveled from where she gripped me, through my torso and up to my chest. My heart felt warm.

I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She was doing her thing, slowly figuring out what I liked. But the fucking pace was killing me. It was as if she was purposely torturing me, teasing the head of my cock with her lips, with her tongue. And my balls were growing tighter and tighter as she fondled them in her palm.

It really wasn't true to say that the times you cherished moved on too quickly. Because this was working out to be one of the best of times, yet sheer fucking torture all the same. I realized, however, that I was an impatient bastard.

And so was my dick. Because all I wanted was for her to take me fully into her mouth, but she was teasing me. I lifted my hips as she sucked on the head of my cock so reverently, her palm pumping me. And I loved the fact that her fingers couldn't fully reach around my shaft. It was a sinful and erotic thing.

She inched more of me into her mouth, little by little. Her lips were so plump and perfect as she sucked harder on the retreat. Over and over again, moving me in, sucking me out. I bucked up into her when I felt the head of my cock hit the back of her throat.

She worked up some saliva, released my cock from her mouth, and licked the palm of her left hand that was stroking me before moving her lips and her mouth to cover me again.

_Motherfuck..._

Bella's hair was falling in the way. I ran my hands through her hair, gathering it up to hold it away from her face. As tempting as it was, I wasn't going to lead her. She bobbed down on my cock gradually, but took more of me in. My hips bucked up at her face again when I felt her right hand palm and knead my sack, her fingers brushing a sensitive spot underneath. Bella gagged a little, and I just about came undone.

_Oh, God...yes. Take it...all..._

She glanced up at me with a furrowed expression working its way across her forehead, while at the same time I purred out my approval. She went back to torturing me, sliding me in and out of her mouth. I watched the muscles in her jaw learn their way around me as she took more of me in. I'd groan on the retreat, missing the confines of her mouth, and on the advance, missing the feelings of sheer ecstasy as her tongue swiped the divot at my head when she'd take me back in. My growl echoed throughout the house as she dragged her teeth a little bit.

She gave herself a break, continuing to pump me with her hand while she licked the length of my cock and moved down to my sac. She kissed and nipped at the skin underneath my shaft, taking one of my balls into her mouth and sucking it firmly, grazing me with her teeth.

_Ohh..SHIT. Shit. Shit. Shit..._

I wasn't going to hold out, not after that little move, and it pissed me off. The moment was going to fade to perfect recall instead of basking forever in the experience of Bella loving me with her mouth. That was what she was doing, she was making love to me with her mouth. Her lips moved up in slow motion, tasting me, licking me, sucking me. She went from sucking my balls to sealing her lips back around my cock. Her tongue swiped over my vein, feeling it.

Every little detail. The way her right hand moved to slowly rub my inner thigh. The small callous on the outer edge of her thumb, as its roughness moved up my hip. The way she ran her fingers over the muscles in my stomach. The way she bobbed up and down on my cock, taking more of me in, more quickly, as she hummed and moaned around me. The scent of her arousal, seeping between her legs.

As it filled the room, I could feel the constriction. I could feel the energy build up in my thighs, in my scrotum, and through my stomach. I could feel the pulsing need for release, and I could feel the fabric of the sheet give through my fingers. So could she.

She tightened her hold with her left hand as she sped up and sucked more firmly around me, sliding more of me in, until she finally removed her palm to take even more of my cock in. I was already deaf. Deaf to the sounds of the animal leaving me. Deaf to the moan that was coming from her.

"Bella. I'm coming..." And I'm pretty sure I yelled. I saw her jump a little, and she used her palm to hold me firmly in place. It was an attempt she would no doubt fail at, and as much as I wanted to cum deeply into her throat, I had to use some concentration to focus on the fact that if I bucked too much into her, I'd break her fucking nose. Maybe her jaw, too.

For a nanosecond I was worried that maybe she wouldn't want to swallow, but she held firm. She even increased the vacuum around my dick with her lips as she drew in. My release was powerful. Night became day, energy became light, and it moved through my chest and up through my head. I lost my ability to breathe as I exploded. I burst into her mouth, and Bella still didn't pause.

I opened my eyes to see her smiling around my cock, moaning out her approval as she swallowed repeatedly, taking every drop I had to give.

It was beautiful. Bella was beautiful. She _could_ taste me. I would never second guess her again.

When I had given all I had to offer, I reached down and wrapped my hands around her arms. As I pulled her up, she straddled my hips and laid down on top of me. I grabbed her chin and brought it up when she tried to tuck it away. I kissed her as she laced her arms under mine; anchoring her hands to my shoulders. My cock slipped between the lips of her pussy, and her wetness coated my not-so-spent dick after all. She rounded her hips, and pushed down onto my thighs. I breathed heavily into her mouth, still trying to catch my breath.

I pulled back to breathe, to say whatever it was that was going to float out without nary a pressing thought except her body laying flush to mine. But that was the thing. I struggled to say something that expressed the love, the dedication, I felt for her.

But all I could think about was her and her body. And mine was already starting to do the talking for me as I trailed my hands down her back. I moved them to the junctions of her hips and thighs, pressing her down even more against my growing erection.

Her eyes were beautiful, so full of an unknown emotion that I couldn't place immediately. Tears were in the corners of her eyes, and the brown reflected some light filtering in through the window. I wasn't sure if it was from the heavy task that she just conquered, or if it was because of something else. If it was because of the unconditional love that I could see now.

How I had longed to see that.

"It's about goddamn time. You have no idea how long I've waited to finally walk into our life."

Her eyes which were closed again opened against me. I could feel her lashes brush against my cheek. I could hear them. I could see the minute furrow in her brow. And I cursed my inability to think before I spoke.

I grabbed the sides of her head. I gave her no time to think or respond to that.

I hoped.

I forced her lips apart, pushing my tongue in to taste her mouth, to push some of my venom into her. Licking and dancing with her tongue, swallowing her taste; and mine.

She adjusted her legs a little and swiveled her hips on me, moaning deeply into my mouth and I into hers, the folds of her wet pussy stroking my length. I rocked my hips a little, coming into contact with her clit.

I pulled back from her lips, trailing soft kisses around them, moving to her chin as I moved my hands to angle her head up—exposing her neck, and her throbbing pulse point. I licked and nipped at her artery, imagining the face beside and above me as she gasped and exhaled loudly. Her mouth was open, feeling fear and ecstasy at the same time.

"You're thinking about it, too, aren't you. You're thinking about me moving inside you and biting you," I spoke against her skin. Maybe she wasn't, but I sure as hell was.

I trailed my right hand down her shoulder to her arm, moving to cup her breast, and squeezing her flesh lightly. It was automatic, her body moving to accommodate my hand as it roamed. She propped herself up, her hands over my shoulders on the bed, elbows bent, keeping the length of her body touching mine. I brought her breast up to capture her nipple in my mouth.

I sucked the tip inside my mouth, listening to and absorbing her whimper. I pulled away. "Say it. Tell me, Bella." My cock was still sliding in between the lips of her pussy, stroking me. Her clit felt like it was literally on fire.

She swallowed thickly, closing her mouth, trying not to moan loudly. "Mmm...yes." she breathed out, as I squeezed her flesh more firmly, drawing more into my mouth. I ran my tongue over her nipple, flicking at it. My cock and my stomach were throbbing with need to be inside her.

"Make love to me again, Bella. I need to feel you come around me." Her lips were at the side of my head, in my hair, kissing my ear.

Her own need and desire was evident as she moved over my length more quickly. My left hand was working the breast that wasn't being worked over with my mouth. She lifted away, crying out as I swallowed against her before I had to release her nipple.

"Oh, God. Peter..." She moved to support her weight with her right arm, taking her left hand away while lifting up a little. She grabbed the end of my cock, stroking underneath my head for a moment before she moved it to her. She stroked herself from her clit to her entrance, teasing me, teasing her. I watched her with her eyes closed, breathing heavily between parted lips that lifted up in the corners a little.

Relishing me, feeling me. Letting the moment linger. Remembering. Burning the moment into memory, so she would never forget.

"I won't forget, either. I'll never forget," I told her softly.

I watched her open her eyes and look into mine deeply. They never lost focus as she slipped me inside her. Her shoulders trembled a little. Her lips, too. Every single time I had been graced to enter Bella, was always a breathtaking moment. The way she stretched to accommodate me. The feeling of her slipping around me. The tightness of her passageway. The heat, the warmth of her skin. The warmth and vitality of her heart. She tilted her head back a little.

I caught the subtle reminder of her first time on roller skates underneath her chin. It almost overlapped the scar from her bicycle. The faint line on her right forearm from a rusted-out lawn chair that gave her an infection. The minute dot on the corner of her lip when she crashed her bike into the back of a neighbor's car. Human. Flawed. A history of memories that made me laugh.

And cry.

But she was perfection. Inside and out, for me. She whimpered so softly as I rocked up slowly, inching more and more inside her. She pulled up, moving down onto me while anchoring her hands to my chest and abdomen. Her fingertips pushed firmly down on my skin, relieving the wonderful ache that she felt as she sheathed me inside her body.

"Uhhhohh..."

She looked at me with a screwed up look of desperation. It felt like slipping on a fresh latex glove that was damp and slick and warm and tight and...

"I could never give this up, Bella. I've waited too long to be with you like this."

Perfect and hot and delightful. Achingly and wonderfully painful. I could feel her heartbeat pulsing around her flesh, and I absorbed it like a smooth, vital pulse of pure electric heat. I could feel it run through the already tightened coil in my belly. Up into my chest. It orbited around my heart, as if it was trying to will it alive once again.

"Can you feel that, Bella?" I choked out. I opened my eyes to look at her as she swiveled her hips, stretching herself around me and shuddering. Her gasps for breath were short and shaky.

"I feel it. I hear it. I..it's beautiful."

I caressed the tops of her thighs as she lifted up and started to move on me. She shuddered again and I moved my hands to her hips, up her firm yet soft abdomen, cupping her breasts with my hands. There was nothing more profoundly beautiful than watching her work my length. There was nothing that had ever felt so fucking good.

"Tell me. Tell me wh...what you feel." I purred deeply, knowing she would feel it. She gasped and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her head was tilted back as she tried to breath some air, whimpering in a way to send another jolt throughout my body.

"You...hum...full...cold...thick...burns. So...good." She gyrated her hips while moving back down on me, hitting every sensitive spot on my cock, causing me to growl. I grabbed her hips and rocked up into her firmly, stopping her movements and causing her to cry out.

"Burns?" I asked concerned. No burning allowed.

She tried to move. I loosened the hold I had used to still her hips. She rose up off my cock, slowly taking me back in. "Good...burn. Warmth. I...hear you. In my veins. In my heart. I...taste you. On...my tongue...in my throat. I br...eathe you."

I smiled up at her, breathing out heavily. "What do I taste like?"

I reached up, cupping her left breast, my thumb working her nipple. I gripped her hip, guiding her back down to me at a new angle, hitting a spot deep within her, and making her groan out gutturally.

"Ohh, god...dammit. Cream...oranges...delicious. Not...enough. Peterrr...my..." She tried to score the skin on my stomach with her nails when I arched up into her, hitting a ridge deep within. She was slick and warm, and I was purring in pleasure as she squeezed her muscles around me. Her hand slipped tentatively down my belly, stopping its descent.

"Do it, Bella. Touch your clit, baby. Make yourself come."

She whimpered quietly as she continued to ride me, sliding her hand down to touch my cock as it exposed itself on the retreat from the confines of her wonderfully slick heat. Moving her hand, I watched as she moved to finger her clit, rubbing it and flicking it quickly.

"Oh, God, baby. You look so beautiful." She looked down at me with a look of extreme desperation and a wanton need to come. Her eyes were half-closed. Tears that didn't fall accented the browns within them, making them look creamy, soft, and the depth inside them was never ending. Her face and neck were flushed, her plump lips full of blood. A slight sheen of sweat traveled down her neck, onto her shoulders, and between her breasts. Her skin glowed from some of the filtering light from outside.

I trailed my hand from her breast down to where her hand worked her clit, feeling the delicacy of her tendons as they moved, and I stroked the finger she was using to work herself over.

Every stroke up and down on my cock sent a surge of energy through the aching and growing coil in my scrotum as she sped up her movements to a more frantic pace. I felt the walls of her pussy start to spasm and tighten before her nerves even sent that wondrous feeling to her brain.

"Peter...Oh...God. I'm..."

"You're coming."

Her walls tightened firmly around me, pulsing and squeezing my cock as she lost the ability to breathe; and her heart found an abnormal rhythm for a brief moment in time. I watched her face as it was suddenly paralyzed in the wave of euphoria and the purest ecstasy while my body absorbed the feeling of her orgasm.

Her body jerked, the muscles in her abdomen spasming. Her fingers locked and her thighs tightened firmly around my hips as she rode it out. I felt her release as I grabbed her hips, stilling my movements inside her while filling her to the hilt. I was soaked in her, drowning in the essence of feeling her. Touching her. Loving her like I could love no other.

I caught her as she dropped. And she did drop, she literally dropped on top of me. Grabbing the sides of her head firmly, I kissed her with fervor as she tried to catch her breath.

I slid my hands down her slick back, grabbing and palming her ass with my hands as I rocked into her slowly as she continued riding out the after effects of her orgasm. I could feel her walls give a little, her essence coating me, and I moved freely inside her. Her nipples were hard, pressed against my chest. My body absorbed the tremendous amount of heat coming from hers. She made me feel alive.

She whimpered into my mouth as I groaned and growled inside of hers. Her hands found my biceps and she squeezed them tightly. She broke away from my mouth, laying her head on my shoulder as I pumped into her with vigor, her teeth trying to score the skin underneath my right collarbone.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck..." she whimpered against me, thickly.

It was her whimpering, her words, that gave me no pause to even want to hold out any longer. It was her scent, keeping even the smallest microbe of clean air away. The fire engulfed my throat, her thick blood singing the sweetest song, enticing the creature in me awake. Seducing us with its sound as it pumped through her heart, flowing into her pulsing arteries. And that fucker was not allowed to run amok.

She was exhausted. Having only slept three hours and twelve minutes, after she had already given herself to me time and time again, only to wake up and take me for herself was something I would never take for granted or advantage of. She'd give me all that I want, but her body wouldn't let her. Not yet it wouldn't.

Her own movements down on me were faltering. I moved my hands slowly down her back, tracing every contour of muscle and flesh down to her ass to grab her and drive into her more quickly. She lifted her head to find my mouth already waiting for hers.

"Can you come again, baby? I'm so close," I grunted into her mouth.

"Nnooo. I want you t...to come," she said desperately, a heightened pitch to her voice.

I chuckled in between breaths. It was only a little blow to my ego. I admired the fact that even in the middle of spontaneous lovemaking, she would never lie to me. Bella was simply happy being intimately close to me. Just to be with me the in the art of intimacy was simply enough for her, and to express that honesty would be a challenge to any man, to put up, or have what you need for the time being. I knew her body inside and out. I knew what could make her come on the drop of a dime. This was simply for me.

Even if I didn't, Bella wasn't the type that would let herself go unsatisfied for every romp in our sexual relationship. Time alone would make her more comfortable to say and express what she wanted, what she liked, what could throw her over, with all inhibitions laid bare. In the dark, she could let her inhibitions go, but in the light, she was self-conscious, and shy.

It was simple, really. 'No, I want you to come,' translated to 'I'm too fucking tired, and my pussy just isn't up for another go'.

I pushed her down onto me more quickly, her thighs and her ass slapping against my skin. My release hit me stronger than before, time stopping for one infinite moment and burning the feeling into memory. I roared into her mouth as she squeezed her thighs around me, milking my cock of its bursts of venom. She cried out in relief and with the accomplishment. So did I.

She let her knees go lax while at the same time laying her head down on my chest.

"I love you, Peter," she whispered out breathlessly, kissing my skin softly.

"I know. I love you."

There were no more words spoken as we laid there, both of us catching our breath. I moved, slipping out of her while she ran her fingertips over my chest. Her warm breath flowed over my skin, wafting up to fill my senses with the mixed scent of freesia, orange blossoms, and lilac. A scent that I was used to. A scent that didn't sing to the creature within me. Or at least, it was a song we have known for years. A scent that even comforted _him_.

My throat still burned like a bitch, though. I was going to need to feed, and feed soon.

I ran my fingers through her hair and down her back. I caressed the tops of her arms. Her breathing evened out, and just when I was about to ask her if she wanted me to get her something to drink, Bella let out a soft snore. Her sinuses were a little plugged from the grueling task of sucking my dick. I had to really try hard not to laugh out loud.

I moved her off of me, and she woke up just long enough to tuck herself into my side, her leg working in between mine, and I wrapped an arm around her and coaxed her back to sleep.

Alone again, in the dark. Alone to think.

I guess maybe Edward Cullen might have been right. If you can find that one thing, something you love more than life itself, you could easily be distracted. You could forget about the ghosts, the pains, the atrocities that haunted us. Where he found his...and if, I didn't care.

Mine was laying next to me, sleeping deeply and sawing logs. A beautiful distraction, she was.

I had seen every aspect of her life. It was important to tell her about mine. To give her less than that was to insult her after she had given me so much.

I quietly got out of bed when she rolled over much later. The sky was starting to lighten.

I made my way across the house, retrieving the key from the book. I slipped back into the bedroom, kneeling down in front of her chest. The staleness that crept out flooded my mind with memories, some better if they could be forgotten. I took out the little velvet pouch that laid on top of the memories that Edward Cullen selfishly took away from her and closed the chest. I put the key back and went back to bed.

Not to sleep, but at least to dream. To dream about my wife. Our future. And phenomenal blow jobs.

***B*E*L*L*A***

My first slip into consciousness was sort of overwhelming. The first thing that entered my mind was the dream. Somewhere during the thought of it, I went back to sleep.

The second time I became aware, I started thinking about last night. Watching Airplane. The firelight. Peter's body wrapped and tangled with mine on the living room floor, the flames reflecting off his naked body as he hovered over me. Or beside me. Even when I sat on his lap.

Going to bed. Dreaming. Not just any dream, _the_ dream. The one that never found its ending before. Waking up. The worried and frustrated look on Peter's forlorn face. I recalled quickly why I did what I did.

_Oh. Oh. Oh...__Oh, I really did that. Oh, wow. Wow. Wow. _

Images danced through my mind. Thoughts of the sensations my body felt went through my body again. From my mouth, to my core. At the same time, I felt a charge in the air around me. Still half asleep, I took a deep breath, and I could smell his scent coming off the sheets. I could feel him.

I was not alone.

His breaths were slow, steady, and I had the distinct feeling he was watching me. I couldn't feel him touching me, but I knew he was there. I was lying on my right side, facing his side of the bed. There was an awful amount of light coming into the bedroom. I blushed involuntarily, trying not to smile.

There was something in my left hand. It was soft and hard all at the same time. I moved and rubbed my fingers over the object. It was velvet-covered. I opened my eyes, and after a few blinks, I focused on Peter's.

He was in the bed, not lying as close as I wanted him to. I was naked, and so was he. The sheet had been kicked down to my thighs. My eyes quickly took his upper body in. He was lying on his left side and partly on his stomach. His right arm, bent at the elbow, was laying in front of him.

I ran my eyes over him. His broad chest, his ribs, and his skin. Peter's skin. Translucent and opalescent white. I followed a set of bluish veins in his right pec. His thick right shoulder held more bite marks from vampires than anywhere else on his body.

I brought my eyes up to look at him. His other arm was tucked underneath the pillow his head was laying on. I took in his strong face at first.

A smile covered his look of apprehension, the swallowing and the bobbing in his throat only accentuated the grief.

In his eyes was every emotion he was feeling. Happiness. Grief. Nervousness. Fear. Love. Pain. His smile was only half-hearted.

Peter couldn't lie worth a shit, and he needed to realize that his eyes and face gave him away half of the time. It just ran so deep within him that it was impossible to cover it up. It was obvious that my question to him last night about Charlotte still loomed heavily in, over, and around his consciousness.

I smiled at him as I rubbed the fabric of the pouch in my grasp. "What's this?"

I watched him as I shifted, bringing my right arm in underneath me as I lay completely on my side. His lips twitched and he swallowed as I loosened the drawstring on the pouch. The string was a little stiff, so was the tassel that hung wrapped tightly around the object inside. It was flat and rectangular in shape. So was the bag itself. It was something that probably hadn't been opened in years.

I pulled the object out and looked at it as Peter spoke. His voice was quiet, and he tried to bite back the thickness within it.

"Something I wanted to show you. I found it about twenty years ago. I'm sure there used to be more like it, but...well, nobody knew her anymore. Nobody...was left to appreciate her."

It was encased in glass, glass glued together to prevent anymore wear and tear. Not letting it breathe the air around it, it was preserved. As it was never preserved before. Charlotte was beautiful. She was still human, and she was sitting on the slope of a hilltop. In the background was the blurry image of a farm field, and what looked like an old stable. I remembered Peter saying something about how she was raised around a cotton plantation down by Big Bend, where she was subsequently killed as well.

It was a black and white photo, the corners yellowed, a small tear at the top in the middle of the photo, fastened back together with a piece of clear tape. The sun had done its damage; it had been on display before, most likely. She was smiling, her eyes squinting up a little from the sunlight. She was wearing thick trousers and a white, long-sleeved, button-down shirt which was buttoned up to her neck. Her knees were bent, and she had her arms wrapped around them.

Long, blond hair, pieces caught in the wind were flying up and around her. She was beautiful by the light of happiness surrounding her. What made her beautiful was the care free smile on her face. You could tell she was a working girl. Even though the photo was black and white, you could see that the skin of her cheeks was tanned, darkened like she had been exposed to the sun too much.

I was smiling for many reasons as I looked at the photo. "How old was she in this?" I looked up at Peter, his face still masking the haunting grief.

"Twenty. Her grandpa took that picture on her birthday. It's dated on the back."

"How old was she when she was changed?" I asked.

"Twenty-three. Maria brought her to me in 1939." Peter swallowed.

I saw his pupils dilate dramatically, and he looked away from my face, towards the window. Peter's eyes were already a shade darker than they were the day before. I could literally see them well up with anger and horror. I distracted him.

"Tell me what she liked."

His eyes flashed back to mine. His eyebrows twitched. "What she liked?"

I smiled at him, and encouraged him with my eyes. "Yeah. What kinds of things did she like?" It was the best I could come up with.

Peter studied my face for a moment, but he looked like he was thinking, and he smiled a little. I was putting the picture away back into its pouch.

"Well, she was a girl. She liked pretty dresses and bun holders. She...um...she liked to wear her hair up." He went silent for a moment, thinking. "She liked to sew. She used to mend our clothes because she hated stealing from people. She even made herself a dress once, but she had to steal the fabric, and everything else to make it." He laughed a little.

"You pointed that out to her, too, didn't you?" I asked.

Peter laughed some more. "Of course, I did."

He swallowed thickly, his eyes full of unshed tears. His voice was calm, quiet, and reverent. "She liked classical music, and...Happy Days. She had a thing for Dean Martin and Sinatra...but she loved books, too. She loved to read. Romance mostly...but Charlotte...she had a love for God. She read about every religion she could. For her, he might have had different names, and people might have worshiped him differently, but he was just God. She just never could understand how anyone could kill another all for the sake of his name."

It was quiet for a moment. "She was a very smart lady," I said.

Peter looked at me, and smirked a little. "She was."

I smiled back at him. "Tell me more."

Peter stared into my eyes. He was thinking.

All of a sudden he chuckled under his breath. "Back in '55...we were holed up inside this vacant house in Kearney, Nebraska. Well, it was daylight out, and we were both sitting on the windowsill looking outside, watching the kids walk to school. Anyways, Charlotte's looking across the street, and I'm watching what she's watching...and...anyways, this momma robin kicks her offspring out of the nest, and they're all just sitting on the ground, hopping around, you know...exploring. Learning to fly."

Peter continued, "Anyways, all of a sudden Charlotte curses...There's this cat sitting in a hedge around this house, getting ready to pounce on one of the babies. The parents are trying to lead the second one away from the edge of the road, so they don't see him. He shoots out of the hedge and grabs that baby bird with his mouth and his paws. Mom and Pop finally see what's going on, and they go ape shit, flying over that cat, dive bombing the fucker. The cat takes off, he's got the bird in his mouth, and he runs behind this house. Those robins were on his ass. Anyways, the other baby bird...well, he's hopping around in the grass by the curb, then out into the street and into the grill of passing car. Splat."

Peter started to shake his head a little, chuckling. "I couldn't help it. It was just so fucking tragic I just started laughing. I mean, talk about some shitty luck. God, I was laughing hard. Charlotte, she was _glaring_ at me. For a second, I thought she was gonna _kill_ me. We both look out the window again and here comes one of the mates flying down, looking at the carnage in the road. I was still laughing a little, and Charlotte was just...livid."

Peter frowned, and his eyes looked pained. "She stood up and she started screaming at me, 'Faith is a bird that feels the light and sings when the dawn is still dark, Peter. Look at her! Now we both have nothing to sing about!'"

Peter was quiet for a moment as he looked at me. He spoke so quietly, "She wouldn't talk to me for about a week. She'd just ignore me whenever I asked her what she meant...and she never told me either. I think...I think it's because she missed her humanity. She missed...being normal. Insignificant. She wanted babies. Lots of them." Peter swallowed hard.

"She hated the monotony of existence as an immortal. Even with me. I mean, sure she loved me. She...loved me like nobody had. But...she missed her family, most of all. She wanted to grow old, she wanted...to be normal. She wanted to die an old lady." Peter stopped for a moment, staring over my head.

"Anyways...she didn't talk to me for over a week. Then one night, I'm walking down the middle of town by the library when the idea struck me. I broke in, and I stole her a North American birds identification book. When I went back to her, I gave it to her, and I told her that even birds have names, just like some think faith does. Maybe she could tell me who was singing."

He swallowed. "She told me...the song might be different, but it all just sings the same for her. It's all for happiness and love. And she could live forever just being happy and in love with me. She studied that book, though, cover-to-cover. We even picked up a few more. We used to lay in meadows...and she would tell me the owner's name of every birdsong without looking. 'That's a Northern Shike. That's a Great-Tailed Grackle. That's a Gray Catbird, Peter, not an annoying little fucker."

We both laughed.

The light-hearted smile faded away from his face, and his eyes flashed...pain. His voice was strained, and so quiet it was hard to hear him. "She kept those books, though. She carried them with us wherever we went, in case she couldn't identify a species. She had them in this backpack, along with everything else she kept. Little mementos we picked up along our travels. Feathers, and a sound recorder I picked up for her one time."

Peter swallowed hard, his voice was thick. "She had it on her the day...the day she was killed. Maria ripped the book in two. She...she threw it into the fire. She..." Peter groaned thickly and moved. I took him into my arms, lying down on my back, as he lay his head between my breasts. He wrapped his arms under me and around me tightly.

He said no more. He said enough. It would always be enough just to know her that much.

We laid there quietly, me running my fingers through his hair, scratching his head. His cold steady breaths caressed my skin. After a few minutes, he ran circles around my right nipple, pinching it lightly between his fingers every now and then, or kissing the swell of my breast lightly with his lips. His leg had wormed its way between mine, and he'd push his thigh up against my center every now and then whenever it seemed like he was trying to get closer.

Peter lifted his head and moved in, stealing a chaste kiss, and whispering, "Thank you," across my lips. He pulled back, smiling mischievously. "God, your breath stinks." He rested his chin on my chest. It was obvious he wanted the change in conversation.

I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks, and brushed the embarrassment off. "Asshole. That ruined a perfectly lovely morning," I mumbled out.

He wormed his free arm around me, holding me tightly to him. "No, it didn't." Kissing me softly and leisurely again, he then pulled away. "Besides, morning is almost over, so technically I can't ruin it. Will you take a shower with me?"

Peter kissed me again, this time more deeply, his lips moving slowly with mine. He took my bottom lip into his mouth, pulling away so I could answer.

"Yeah. What time is it, anyway?" I asked.

"About eleven. Put your legs around me."

I wrapped my legs around him, crossing my ankles over his ass. "Eleven? Why did you let me sleep...Peter!"

All I knew was one second I was laying flat on my back still, and in the next I was a dazed and confused, befuddled fucking mess in the bathroom. A feeling of nausea and dizziness slammed into me like a wrecking ball. Peter was laughing quietly, untwisting my ankles and lowering my legs. He peeled my arms away from him, placing one of my hands on the counter. My other hand was pressed against my chest, trying to quell the need to vomit.

"Take care of business, pretty girl. I'll go start your coffee." He leaned down and kissed my cheek. I slapped his chest playfully.

"Jerk," I muttered as he flitted out of the bathroom, leaving a chuckle floating in the air. I grabbed a tumbler sitting by the sink, filled it up with cold water, and drank it as I stumbled over to the toilet.

I was brushing my teeth when he came back in, fresh clothes in his hands for the both us. He sat them on the counter, grabbing my shampoo and conditioner out of my basket of Peter-approved toiletries, taking them into the shower.

"So, when are we going to Marcy's?" I asked.

"I called this morning. Becky said to drop by at anytime, so I told her we'd be over between one and two. I wanna go for a ride first."

"Where are we going?" I rinsed as he started the water. I was a little nervous, never having showered with anyone but myself for...well...my entire life. Except for when Alice had to help me out after Phoenix, but she didn't have a dick; or a body that turned on the spigot to all my inner girly parts.

"Downtown. I figure we can drop by your place since we'll be in the area anyway. That way you can grab some fresh clothes if you want. Or you can wear mine, I like you in mine," he paused for a moment, "you know, I can hear your heart. Get in here, Bella."

He certainly was in a much lighter mood, though there was a little nervousness in his voice. This morning's conversation and its subject, though, didn't seem to be weighing heavily on him like it had been.

"I'm coming. But what are we doing? I mean, where are we going?" I said quietly, still standing by the counter.

"Just for a ride, I want to show you something. Quit asking me, I'm not gonna tell you." I moved over to the open shower door and stepped in. I put my hand on the door to pull it shut as I took in his form.

The large shower heads were both jetting out large amounts of water, drenching Peter who was facing the one on the furthest wall. I walked in just as he finished soaping up his hair, putting his bottle of shampoo back into the cubbyhole. He had turned on the overhead lights inside the shower, the minerals inside the stone of the walls reflecting the light, making it as bright as a sunny day, but without the sun.

He grabbed the bar of soap next, taking it and lathering it up in his palms, I suppose. I watched him as he stepped back out of the water a little. Watching his back, his shoulders, his arms, and thick bands of muscles working as he moved his hand with the bar of soap all over the front of him. A sight I couldn't see, but from behind him it wasn't so bad _at_ all. His pale and cold skin was giving off steam as the hot water hit him.

I watched as his arms concealed themselves a little, those long appendages seeming to lengthen as he moved further south down the front of him. He cocked his right leg a little. What little was exposed to my eyes only added to my imagination. I could vision him cupping his balls, massaging them, stroking his length, cleaning his glorious dick.

I couldn't see it, but I could imagine it.

Streams of water ran down his backside laced with soapy bubbles from his lathered-up head, over his tight and scrumptious ass, some falling away and some losing their intensity as they moved around and down his strong and corded thighs.

I think I moaned.

In fact, I was sure of it. Peter stepped back under the cascading water, rinsing his hair out and turning his head, smiling wryly. A normal man wouldn't see me standing there completely ogling him; but this was Peter, and he was not a normal man, even if he wasn't a vampire.

"Are you gonna stand there all day watching me? Close the door, Bella. Come here," he ordered quietly. Seductively.

I sighed and closed the door. I walked slowly over to him. "Maybe I could. You've watched me plenty, maybe I could have a turn and watch you for a change," I stated as a matter-of-fact. Peter had finished rinsing out his hair. It was soaking wet, slicked back and away from his face.

When I got closer, he turned a little, reaching out and tenderly pulling me to him by the tops of my arms. He angled me under the stream of water. I tilted my head back to get it wet as I wrapped my arms around his waist. My hips pushed in, brushing against him. I heard a strained sigh escape his lips.

"That's probably only fair." His voice was deep, rich, and soft. "God knows you've given me plenty of visuals and things to dream about. Speaking of which, you wanna tell me what the hell got into you last night? I'm far from complaining, but I need to know. What were you thinking?" Peter had run his hands through my hair to help me get it good and wet.

He stepped us back a little, grabbing my shampoo out of the cubbyhole and squeezing some shampoo into his palm.

This was kind of the conversation I wanted to avoid. I wasn't oblivious to the fact that it would be brought up, but the whys were what I wanted to skate around. The fact was that it was 'the dream'. The one that gave me tremors, panic attacks, and night sweats—and the dream that had haunted me for a few years. Its details were something I never discussed with anyone. It was one of those things that were a reminder and a cause of my own grief, my own sanity. Or insanity. I also didn't want to discuss it because of its origin. It was the life-altering effect that Edward's leaving had left.

I didn't want Peter to think that it, or Edward, had left a permanent effect on me.

But last night it found its ending. Last night, all I could understand was that the dream had finally played itself out, and my life was now Peter's. Sure, it was mine, but in the end I would be giving it to him. He was simply what I had been searching for all along. That was the reason I decided to go ahead and tell him, no matter how crazy it sounded. I wanted Peter. I would spend...the rest of my life with him. Hopefully beyond that. There were so many things that needed to be figured out.

And after last night, and after some of his words, I had some questions of my own.

"Bella?" I looked up at him. He gave me a look that said, 'well?'.

I sighed. Telling him didn't mean that I wouldn't be nervous telling him. "I had a nightmare," I hesitated, "but it had a good ending. That's the 'why' of it." Peter was lathering up my hair, scratching my scalp. It felt _really_ good.

"What was it about?"

I groaned. My eyes were closed, my head tilting back into his hands, and it was in my best interest not to look at him. "It was the same nightmare I've had for years. Since...Edward left. I don't know why I had it. I guess just too much was brought up to the surface yesterday and...well, it was different this time. This time, it had an end. Sort of. There might have been more, but...you woke me up."

I chanced a look when he didn't respond, and he paused in his efforts to clean every strand of hair thoroughly. His brow, and his eyes, looked critical. His lips pursed out a little.

He leaned down and gave me a quick kiss, then pulled away. "Tell me about it."

He stepped us back into the stream of water to rinse my hair. "Well, there's not much to tell. I'm running through the forest. Not just any forest, but the forest up in Washington, by Forks. It's dark, and I'm...chasing after something. But there was always nothing there, nothing to find. That's usually when I wake up crying and screaming, before last night anyway. It...I don't know. Before last night, it just always reminded me of that day when Edward left. I tried to run after him. I couldn't accept that it was over, I guess. But this time, it was different."

"Different how?" I heard him pop the bottle of conditioner open. He started rubbing it through my hair.

The lump that had worked its way into my throat made my voice sound thicker. "I heard a voice calling my name. I kept running, and I started falling, too. I just ran harder and faster. There were...two figures I ran by. They were all blurred out, so I couldn't see their faces, but I know who...who they were. Then there was this light, and I ran towards it. When I finally reached it, it changed."

"What changed?" Peter asked softly. I looked up at him and he was smiling a little. I closed my eyes.

"I stepped out of the forest into the desert. I stepped out and I saw you. When you woke me up last night, I...was just overwhelmed with how much I love you. What color were your eyes when you were human?" I asked. I was already sure of his answer.

"Bluish gray. I was in the desert?" I looked up at his face, and he was grinning a little. His eyes looked so bright, so happy, and he was curious. I closed my eyes.

"Yeah." I felt a little foolish. I shook my head and chuckled a little. "It was blurry, but it was a desert. Not like the desert around here, though. This one...was kind of half tundra, half desert. It had red rocks and...that weird looking cactus. I can't remember what they're called. You know, the ones that are real spiny that bloom? And you were standing in a ring of rocks by the edge of a canyon. You looked at me an..."

"It was an old Comanche fire pit. It sits on the ledge of one of the highest points down in Santa Elena Canyon. In Big Bend."

His voice had grown dreadfully quiet, and he turned into a statue. His eyes lost focus. It was almost like he wasn't even there. "Peter, what is it?"

Peter blinked. There was a look of disbelief covering his features, but he was also frowning something awful. "That's where Charlotte was killed. It's the exact same place. Just like you described. I could fill in the gaps for you. I was thinking about it before you had your dream," he said thickly, his words laced with venom.

I shook my head at him, thinking about that for a moment. I could see where he was going with this.

It was coincidence only, unless he had a gift for passing his thoughts to others, but no. No.

"Peter, no. It's a coincidence. Unless you've got some other kind of gift you haven't told me about where you can pass thoughts telepathically..."

He stood there. _We_ stood there for a moment in silence. He had pulled us out of the water just enough so that it wasn't beating me in the face. He was staring at me, gauging me for something. His arms had fallen to his sides and so had mine, and I was growing more worried by the second. I had the distinct feeling he wasn't telling me something, something big, and he was weighing his options.

Fuck.

"Peter, do you have a gift you're not telling me about?"

He blinked again, and deflected my question with one of his own. "Do you believe in miracles?"

"What?"

"Do you believe in miracles? Do you believe in...angels. Do you believe in God?"

"What kind of question is that? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Maybe it has _everything_ to do with it. I don't have a gift for passing thoughts, or creating dreams, Bella. And I can't read minds, either. Just answer my question," he said firmly.

This was all so ridiculous.

"Answer me." He grabbed the tops of my arms and pulled me up against him, his eyes drilling into me.

"No, Peter..."

"No, what?"

"Would you calm the fuck down and give me a second?!" I shook my head at him. "You're talking about angels and miracles, for Christ's sake. What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Yes, I believe in God, but I don't...I don't believe in miracle's or divine influence if that's where you're headed. I believe there's an explanation, a logical explanation behind everything," I bit out.

He laughed at me with disbelief. "A logical explanation? Christ, Bella, you're a human. You're a rarity in and of itself. You have knowledge and you know that the mythological does exist, and you need a logical explanation?" He let go of me and gave me a hard look. He was pissed.

So was I. Talk about your 'what the fuck?' moments.

"Yes, Peter. Because even with the fact that there is a whole world out there that hides itself from human awareness, there's a logical explanation for it all. Vampires don't burn up in the daylight. Holy water doesn't burn them. They don't bite somebody three times and 'poof' you're a vampire. They live off of blood, not just _human_ blood. Their venom is poisonous, much like a lot of plants and animals have, too. There's a science behind it. There's a science behind it all."

"You don't honestly believe that shit you just spewed out, do you? If that's the case, how do you explain the Quileutes and their curse?" he bit out. Peter's eyes were blackening with anger.

"I can't explain any of it!" I yelled. I stopped and I took a step away from him. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to think this through. The fact was that I couldn't. I couldn't explain any of it. I couldn't explain _him_.

The water was beating down on my back and I just focused on relaxing for a moment. "I can't explain any of it," I repeated. "I'm not saying that there aren't supernatural forces at work in the world, clearly there has to be. But as you pointed out, I am human. There is a point where my sanity becomes an issue. You asked me about God, about angels and miracles...and I can't honestly tell you if I believe in the...afterlife."

He scoffed a little, and I chanced a look at him and he was shaking his head.

Almost in disgust. I looked down and ignored the feeling of my heart dropping.

"I believe in God, but I don't believe he's at work, interfering in our lives on a constant basis. I don't believe he judges every single living person and soul. I believe he created the world, but I don't know...there's a whole universe out there, Peter. He might have created us, but he gave us free will to..." I couldn't finish. I could feel the tears coming, and I couldn't stop it.

Even with the water cascading down, hitting the walls and the floor, it still seemed too quiet.

"God is too damn busy building the schools. The teachers appoint themselves as such. Some of them teach the things that are good, like knowledge, happiness, and love above all. Some of them teach hate. An angel is just a dignified term for a janitor, and they're cleaning up everyone's fucking mess."

I looked up just as he reached out and pulled me back to him. His eyes had softened dramatically, and he looked sympathetic. He had said that quietly, and calmly.

"What?"

He rubbed the corner of my lip with the pad of his thumb. His skin was somewhat warm, but my nipples still hardened against his stomach, though. "Something Charlotte told me once. She wasn't much different from you, but she was also raised under Christian fundamentals. Her views on religion changed quite a bit after becoming a vampire, but she believed in God. She believed in divine intervention, and in Heaven itself. That it does exist for us out there. All of us." He kissed me softly.

Peter gave me a pointed look. "You haven't had that much religious influence throughout your life, have you?"

"Yes, and no. Renee exposed me to a few denominations...and cults...but even that was sporadic. I've just...I don't know. I've tried to live my life, even as a child, open to all possibilities. I've watched enough TV and I've read enough to know that the idea that Heaven exists is widely received, but I can only accept what I've seen or experienced for myself. You have to remember, I've almost died three times now. I didn't see a light in a tunnel. I've never seen an angel waiting for me. After James attacked me in Phoenix, though, I remember thinking that Edward's voice belonged to one, but in the end it was just Edward. So, the idea that angels and Heaven exist...I don't know, Peter."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, sighing. "Well, I believe they all exist. I can even believe for the both of us. I believe we see them everyday, whether we know it or not. I have." He kissed my lips softly.

"What have you seen?"

His forehead was still against mine, and he shook his head a little and chuckled beneath his breath. "I'm not going to tell you. I've just realized it's something you need to find out for yourself. Maybe it's one of those things that shouldn't be shared with the rest of the world. Maybe it's one of those things that should just be kept to yourself, for only you to treasure."

He was hiding something. Something he didn't think I was worthy of hearing now. He hid his disappointment so well.

"That seems a little odd coming from someone who used to be a teacher."

He pulled back, gauging me, cocking his head a little. "There have been plenty of teachers before me that have had more impact on their students when it comes to this subject. I'm the last person in the world that needs to teach anyone about faith, and God, and...all of it. I've spent a lot of my existence as a human and a vampire hating it all. You'll have to find out what to believe in on your own, Bella. When it comes to love, though, I'm more than happy to spread the word. Turn around," he ordered.

Peter shifted us and let go of me, grabbing my shoulders and turning me towards the spray quickly. He pulled me roughly against his back. "What are you doing?" I asked, somewhat concerned.

"What I wanted to do in the first place when I asked you to come in here with me. Lean your head back," he whispered seductively in my ear. The spray from the water was hitting me directly in the chest, splashes coating my face.

Peter's body was flush with mine. I felt the lower half of him pressing against my lower back. Had I been paying attention, maybe I would have noticed what felt like a very engorged dick just waiting patiently. My heart felt like it was about to leap out of my chest. Or, so I thought.

He was distracting me. That much was evident. Maybe for now that was okay.

I leaned my head back against his chest, a breath shuddering out of my lungs. Peter smoothed back my hair gently with his hands. I watched him reach for the bar of soap sitting in the cubbyhole, and then closed my eyes.

_Oh...God._

I felt the side of his face press down against the side of my head, his lips at my ear. "Relax your arms, honey. Let go," he said quietly. I hadn't realized it, but I had grabbed with both hands onto the arm and the hand that was around me and resting on my stomach, gripping him very tightly.

I opened my eyes for a moment as I dropped my arms. He took the bar of soap and lathered up his hands. Slowly, very slowly, he moved to run the bar of soap and his free hand up and down my right arm, reaching across my chest. Then he moved to the left side. His steady breaths along my ear and shoulder sent a chill and prickled my skin. I got goosebumps, and I could feel my nipples aching.

He kissed my ear gently. "Wrap your arms around my neck." Peter slid the bar of soap down the back portion of my left arm as I interlocked my wrists behind his neck. "I apologize for yelling at you, Bella. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Peter and the bar of soap slowly traveled across my armpit, down the side of the swell of my breast, and down my ribs. He switched hands, and repeated the process with the bar of soap, while his free hand rubbed the soap along every inch of me. His fingers brushed by my nipple, and he grabbed on and pulled us back out of the water, giving my face a break from the spray.

"I'm sorry, too. But you didn't frighten me. You just...threw me for a loop. You seem...to do that a lot, and you're quite good at distracting me."

He hummed in my ear. "I could say the same about you." Peter leaned down, and started to kiss and nip and suck along my neck where he marked me the first night. With my arms still wrapped around the back of his neck, he ran the soap across my chest, above my breasts. I was in heaven because it felt so good, yet I was nervous, too.

Peter seemed to have that effect, and anything new in the aspects of intimacy as well. I was already panting, my lower stomach felt as if it was clenching, getting me ready for what was to come.

Peter switched the soap in his hands again. I had my eyes closed, just feeling him, trying to relax against him. The position was a little awkward, my back arched because of my arms. It put a little pressure on the back of my neck, but not to where it was completely uncomfortable yet.

I focused on his hands as they moved to my breasts. The bar of soap in his left hand, making it's way around my breast, while the right hand kneaded my flesh. Stroking me. Pinching my nipple lightly. Lifting my flesh and squeezing me. It sent warmth and heat throughout me. I felt a tickle from inside. I was wet for him.

It came out without a voice behind it, "God."

Peter switched the soap to his other hand, and he worked my left breast with his palm and his fingers. The soap in his other hand, he moved down to cover my stomach, slowly working his way further south.

"What are you doing to me?" I shuddered out. My heart was a locomotive at this point. I could feel it beating in my back, and I'm sure he could, too. The mark on my neck would be fresh again. He had a mouth full of flesh and I felt him suck hard. Too hard. I yelped at the same time I heard a small pop as he released me. Peter moved his head back up to rest at the side of my head.

"I'm touching you. I'm washing you. Haven't you ever touched yourself before in the shower, baby?" he whispered seductively into my ear.

I swallowed hard as I felt his hand with the bar of soap moving closer to the apex of my thighs. Every slow circle along my lower belly was getting precariously closer. The anticipation was torturing me, and the thought alone that this was Peter's bar of soap, the one he used on his body, sent electrifying shivers of heat down my spine to my core.

"No."

He purred out a deep breath against my ear. "I have. Lately I have plenty of times, just thinking about you. Just thinking about...all the things I wanted to do to you. All the different ways I've wanted to make you come."

The hand with the bar of soap went between my legs, rubbing against me.

"Eating your pussy. Sucking your clit into my mouth. You like that."

Once. Twice. Three times. It either slipped out of his hand or he dropped it, I didn't know which. The noise of it hitting the bottom of the shower floor only briefly registered. I tried and failed to keep the deep moan from leaving my throat.

"Laying you down on the island in the kitchen. Spreading your legs apart, fucking you..."

His left hand was moving over my breasts, continuing its assault, squeezing and lifting my flesh. His right hand stroked the soap along my pussy, his finger stroking my slit from bottom to top, running over my clit slowly. Spray was hitting me in the belly and the chest, and the one that was no doubt hitting his back and his head was sending beads of water down my chest. It was hot. The water was hot. My body was on fire. Inside and out.

"You like that, don't you? You were watching me earlier, Bella. Can you see me in here, pumping and stroking my cock...and coming, baby? Can you see me palming my nuts and squeezing them much like you have while I'm imagining fucking you? I have, Bella. Plenty of times. Frankly, if I told you how many times I've gotten off to the thought of you, you'd be _shocked_. Put your hands on mine, Bella. Lean all the way back and turn your head so I can kiss you."

I did as he said. I covered his hands with mine, which were so much larger and thicker, as he abused and manipulated my flesh.

Peter's lips found mine and he forced himself inside my mouth, his tongue pulsing in and out much like his middle finger was, slipping inside my passage.

His thumb was working my clit steadily, with pressure. I could feel his hard length pressing up against my back. I was pressing into his hand, working my hips every time he'd let the pressure he was applying fall off a little. It was torture.

I pulled away from his mouth, gasping and moaning out. "Let me touch you."

He attacked my mouth again, talking against it, and inside it. "No...I wanna make you come. You're gonna come in _my_ hand. Tell me what you want, Bella."

Peter moved his fingers out of me. My nub felt hot and his fingers began to flick it lightly.

"Fuck. That. More. Fast...er. Harder. Harder," I cried into his mouth. Peter squeezed my right breast firmly, and I moaned deeply into his mouth before I had to break away and find some air.

His fingers were working me in a frenzy. The strength was leaving my legs, giving his hand the added weight of what I couldn't support. I could feel the tightness in my pelvis getting ready to explode. I squeezed my inner muscles, and my stomach clenched. I could feel the knot getting ready to untie itself.

"Oh, God. I'm coming...I'm coming." Peter stuck two of his fingers back inside me roughly while rubbing my clit. I felt my diaphragm clench something awful as my head fell forward and all the leftover strength in my legs gave way.

My hand had flew up to grasp onto his forearm that was now supporting my weight against him. The orgasm and the heat flashed white behind my lids as I rode it out.

Peter let out what sounded like a part growl-part purr of satisfaction as he kissed the back of my neck. I was coming down off my orgasm, putting some effort into focusing some weight back onto my legs.

He continued to stroke my pussy as I lifted and turned my head to find his lips. Still moaning, he kissed me earnestly, moaning into me. I felt his hand leave me and I watched him through lidded eyes as he moved his hand up, breaking away from my mouth to suck one of his fingers. His own lidded eyes were so blackened with lust that it was almost frightening the way he was looking at me.

"Oh, my God."

"Suck my fingers, Bella. Let me watch you taste yourself."

It was what he wanted. It was something that gave him some sort of pleasure and a walk on the wild side of intimacy. And it was _thrilling_. _Erotic_. I gave him what he wanted, sliding his fingers into my mouth and sucking off my arousal, my cum. It wasn't unpleasant; it was sweet and musky.

Peter moved to lick his own hand and my lips as he purred out something kind of wonderful, approving, and appreciative.

He finally let me turn into his arms, moving us both into the spray of the water coming from the higher shower head. He held me close to him, moving his hands down and around the length of my back and my ass.

I kissed away at his lips and his face, his shoulders and his chest. I moved my hands to touch the front of him, running my nails softly down his skin. I pulled away and moved my hand to grip his length, and Peter pulled back away from me. He lifted my hand away from him, pulling it around his waist.

"No, just leave it. I'm perfectly happy right now going unsatisfied."

I looked up at him. "But that's not fair to you."

He grinned a little and shook his head. "I'm in a giving mood. I'll take what I need later. I'm all for sitting in the hot tub later tonight and having you ride me, so...yeah. It gives me something to look forward to." His forehead was pressed against mine, his eyes were closed and he just looked so damn at peace. He chuckled a little bit.

"I can do that. Or you, however you want to look at it."

After a few more minutes of canoodling, and sweet and dirty words, Peter picked up the bar of soap again and knelt down. This time there were just soft touches as he washed, rubbed, and massaged my thighs and legs with his hands. My fingers and the bottom of my feet were wrinkled up terribly.

We got out the shower and I went to work on my appearance because we were going out. Since we wasted away the rest of the morning in the shower, we were pressed for time, according to Peter. He walked out of the bathroom and retrieved my clothes from our date while I blow dried my hair. Peter himself came back in dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a brown, long-sleeved knit top.

He was cooking up the hamburger for my spaghetti when I made my way into the kitchen. He had a blueberry muffin already buttered and he put it in the microwave, heating it up a little as I poured a cup of coffee. I ate my muffin and laughed quietly as he cussed when grease splattered on his shirt, so he just took it off to finish cooking up the meat.

It was amusing, watching him do such a natural thing as piling his ingredients into a slow cooker for spaghetti sauce. He said he took his spaghetti sauce seriously, while at the same time he did his best not to breathe or scrunch up his face. Peter said that it was his goal to make me the best fucking spaghetti ever tasted by man so I could look at it anew, instead of reminding me of one of my most embarrassing moments.

"You haven't told me about that yet, you know. What was your most embarrassing moment?" I asked. I was slipping on my shoes while Peter poured me a cup of coffee to go.

"Yeah, I'm still not telling you. That shit is just _way_ too embarrassing. It's one of those private things, Bella. You know, the ones that are best just kept..." He was grinning slyly as he ran out of the room to go fetch another shirt. But there was something in his eyes, too. It was almost as if he were ashamed.

"Oh, whatever," I grumbled out. He didn't play the game fair.

Peter came back into the room, pulling on a white, cotton, long-sleeved t-shirt. His grin was half-hearted. "I'm actually being a little serious. I'll tell you in due time, I suppose. It's actually not a very good memory."

I studied his face for a moment. It wasn't.

"Okay," I nodded at him, letting it drop. I grabbed my hoodie out of the alcove as Peter grabbed his keys from the bowl and we headed out.

Peter still wouldn't tell me where we were going, but he pointed out Marcy's house as we drove by. He took the freeway north, and then got off at the Cerrillos exit.

"Where are we going?" I asked for what was probably the fifth time. At first I thought maybe he was taking me home first, but he turned right off the exit ramp and headed north.

"Relax, Bunny. Enjoy the scenery," he said with exasperation.

Cerrillos was anything but scenic. Unless you saw the not-so-rare hooker attempting a daytime run to pick up a john, or some derelict with his 'willy' hanging out while he strolled down the sidewalk. The never-ending string of used car lots along Cerrillos was unreal.

Peter turned at the intersection where Cerrillos and Airport Drive met. He drove down a few blocks and pulled into a parking spot next to an apartment complex. The area around Airport was also less than desirable. I knew this area well.

It was a poor community in the city, but it was attempting to clean up its image. The state and private contributors gave the homeowners and independent business owners special outlets to grants and loans to make the area more aesthetically pleasing. Still, there was always an adult bookstore, bodega, or even a check-cashing place within walking distance. The apartment complex we were sitting in front of had been remodeled recently. Crime in this area, however, hadn't really dropped.

This was the area where the Latino population thrived, and the majority was probably here in the States illegally. My old next door neighbor used to rent her apartment from a guy who sublet it from management. He made an extra two hundred bucks per month, while she was paying almost fifty percent more in rent. She didn't have a visa.

We were on the opposite side of the street, sitting across from a small park with lots of foot traffic. But not the type you should have found at any park on a warm Sunday afternoon. There were fifteen-plus teenagers, or young adults, in the park. Hoodlums was more like it.

It was gang turf. A homeless man was sleeping beneath a pinion that had been trimmed underneath. There were no kids playing at the playground. There were no dogs chasing balls or frisbees. There was nobody walking along the path that ran around the park.

And we...we were just sitting in the truck.

I looked over at Peter. "Um, what are we doing here?"

Peter had some sort of disturbing, mischievous glint in his eye, but he wasn't smiling. He leaned forward and reached between his legs, popping the bar on his seat and pushing it back as far as it could go.

"You know this area?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I had an apartment a couple blocks from here the first year I lived in Santa Fe."

He looked at me. "Where at, Rancho Carrera?"

"Yeah. I have no reason to come over here now. They've cleaned it up a lot, though."

Peter huffed. "Yeah, they have. They just cleaned up the park this past year. Funny, though, you still don't see any kids playing, do you?"

I looked at a group of kids hanging around a picnic table with an older Latino male. The majority of them had their jeans on like they were a pair of seven day shitters. "No, I don't."

Peter's voice dropped. "Yeah. You see, in the city's efforts to clean up its image, they forgot one thing."

"What's that?"

Peter let out a little laugh. "They forgot to put a fence around the south east side and give everybody a gun. They should have just let em' all shoot it out and then waited to see who won. Then they would have known beforehand if it was worth cleaning this shit hole up."

"Peter," I chastised. "That's mean."

He gave me a questioning look. "What?...It's the truth. They cleaned up the park so the drug runners had places to make deals and the hookers had a nice place to sit so they could suck a guy's dick or...fuck. They gave the bums new trash cans to dig cans out of and nice new grass to take a dump or sleep in. They even gave the 'artists' nice new walls to paint their gang colors and symbols on. But, do you see any extra cop patrols? Do you see the old couple who's lived here for years taking a stroll? No. No, you don't. Or, do you see Immigration over here loading up some old buses? No. All you see is shit like that."

Peter waved his hand to a group over at the picnic table. A couple of the larger boys were tackling a smaller kid, punching him in the gut. Punching him hard.

"They're not all bad. They're just...having a good time. And Jesus, Peter, we're in New Mexico. More than three quarters of the state's population is white, and the rest...well, the rest of the state is ethnically diverse."

He looked at me with disbelief, like I was stupid. He was shaking his head side to side minutely. "What fucking census report have you been reading? Forty-eight percent of the state's population is Hispanic, Bella. Besides, it doesn't matter. Scum is scum. It doesn't matter what color you are or where you come from. If you can't do right by people or by your family, you have no fucking right to live." Peter stared out the windshield, his eyes narrowing.

What the fuck was he talking about? Where the hell did all this come from?

"You know, if I'd known we were going to drive all the way over here just so we could get into a debate about the way society works, I would have stayed home. Scum is scum, but you have to realize that with the economy and unemployment at an all time high, people are going to do what they have to do to survive. And the kids, the kids are stuck in the middle of it all. Ugh. Why are we talking about this?"

Peter ignored my questions. "People will do what they have to to survive. But this shit here isn't about surviving. This shit here is because that motherfucker there wants to have it all and could give a fuck about anybody else but himself. And those 'kids', Bella? They're old enough to know the difference between right and wrong."

He was flinging his arms again, motioning to someone sitting over at the park amongst the group of kids.

"Okay. Take a step back, and could you please calm down? God, you're are so wound up today! I have no idea what you're talking about or who you're talking about."

Peter looked at me silently for a moment. He was thinking, and he looked maybe a little nervous. "Look out the window, Bella. Tell me what you see. You're good at this, honey. You see people and things for what they are."

I was getting a little irritated over his cryptic shit and avoiding my direct questions. This was not what I considered a romantic weekend away from home. I glared at Peter for a moment before he motioned for me to look.

I sighed and looked out the window over at the group by the picnic table. For the exception of a couple of boys, most of them looked like they were yelling obscenities to a couple of girls walking along the sidewalk on our side of the street, who ignored the boys and walked faster.

Another girl, probably sixteen or seventeen, crossed the street and headed over to the group of boys. She was wearing a tank top and a blue denim mini skirt with a pair of thongs. She had long dark hair that was probably very pretty when it was washed. She probably could have been very pretty if her skin wasn't covered with what looked like sores and acne, and if she wasn't twitching away a mile a minute. She was rubbing her face, itching her neck, looking all over the fucking place.

I had seen it a lot, although I could never tell what their drug of choice was. Meth, maybe? Crack?

"I see a bunch of assholes over at that picnic table giving those girls a hard time, and that girl that walked across the street is on crack, or something." I continued to watch her as she attempted to saunter over to the picnic table upon which three of the boys sat facing the street.

"Probably crack," Peter said quietly. I looked at him and he jutted his chin out, wanting me to look back out the window.

One of the boys, the one in the middle of the group sitting on the table, actually wasn't a boy. He looked like he was possibly in his early twenties. He was sitting down, but I could tell he was well over six feet. He was a little broad across the shoulders and he obviously worked out. He was the only one not wearing shitters. He had on a pair of black slacks of some type, along with a black, fitted t-shirt. He was Hispanic, his hair cropped short. All in all, not a bad looking guy from far away.

The girl came to stand in front of the three boys sitting at the picnic table. They were talking, and she slipped her hand into the waistband of her skirt. She pulled out something, probably money, and I watched the swap take place with the tall male wearing all black. They were talking back and forth as she slipped the hidden package down the waistband of her skirt, down between her legs.

_Eww._

I laughed. "Yep, this is just how I wanted to spend my Sunday. Thanks, Peter. I really enjoyed that."

At the same time I was making my statement, the man - the one wearing black - was laughing out loud and he grabbed one of her breasts. She swatted him off and pushed his shoulder. Even though he was more than a hundred yards away, I was pretty sure I saw a murderous look in his eyes, and he slapped the girl across the face. She stumbled back, almost tripping completely.

I managed to pop the door and step out on the tube step.

"Hey, asshole!" I yelled out.

Peter grabbed my arm forcefully and pulled me back in towards the middle, while pulling the door shut hard enough to shake the frame and swearing under his breath. Peter started the truck. The boys, the asshole, were all looking towards the street, towards us. Peter pulled out quickly and took off down the street.

I watched the older Hispanic man reach under his shirt while he watched the truck take off.

_Fuck_.

"For Christ's sake, Bella. What the hell did you think you were gonna do!?" he said heatedly.

"I was gonna give that fucker a piece of my mind, that's what I was going to do! Didn't you see what he did to her?"

Peter sighed and released his painful grip on my arm somewhat.

"Yeah, I did. But I don't give a fuck," he retorted, and his glare and tone were angry.

I huffed and pulled my arm the rest of the way out of his grasp. I moved back over to the passenger side. We sat in silence for a minute while he turned and headed south.

I broke the tense silence. "So what's going on? What's this all about, Peter?"

Peter didn't answer, at first. His face and his features twisted in both anger and...resignation. He took a breath and spoke calmly. "That guy back there, you know which one I'm talking about?"

"Yeah. The older one."

"Yeah. His name is Ricky Delasantos. He's twenty-three and he's been selling drugs since he was sixteen. He just got out of prison a little over three months ago after doing six months for possession with intent to deliver. It was the seventh time he's been busted, Bella. He's got an assault record and he's been a suspect in two murders, but he's a smart and slick little bastard. He's always had an alibi, or someone else pinned to take the heat."

I studied Peter's profile for a minute. His anger had dissipated somewhat, but he had a very severe expression on his face. I put my seat belt back on, but I turned somewhat in the seat to look at him. "How do you know all this?"

Peter shrugged. "Surveillance, police reports, court records, newspapers, the internet. There is nothing I don't know about that guy. I found him at the end of March. I was listening to the scanner on my way back from Albuquerque one night when I heard a report about an assault down on Hacienda. A fifteen year old girl who looked much like the one we just saw was gang-raped and beaten half to death. He carved an 'R' into her belly and cut out her tongue. I followed his 'scent' right over here to the park. And I watched him."

I thought about that for a moment. "I read the paper. I watch the news. I never heard anything about that." Peter turned right, into a small lot for a cemetery.

Peter glanced at me and scrutinized my expression. "That's because she was only fifteen. You won't always hear about every sexual assault or child abuse case in the news, Bella. Children are assaulted and abused every day, and it's not just scum like Delasantos doing it. It's teachers, priests, role model moms and dads. It's even next door neighbors."

I studied his profile. There was an air of malevolence surrounding him. He was tense, and damn if he didn't look foreboding in that moment. This wasn't stoicism, this look on him was...more threatening, more menacing. He was watching a gardener who was trimming the grass by one of the sidewalks across the cemetery. It was during that moment while I was studying his cold expression and the hard lines of his jaw when I realized what he reminded me of.

He reminded me of a predator, tense and focused on his prey. Waiting patiently for the right moment to strike. He looked...lethal. And Peter looking lethal was nothing short of fucking scary. Peter wasn't breathing, either. It was a reminder, a reminder that Peter was a vampire. A vampire who killed people.

We were hunting.

_Motherfucker. _

"My God. That's it, isn't it? You're showing me how you hunt. What...what are you going to do? Are you gonna kill the gardener?!" I asked, failing to keep the terror out of my voice.

Peter's head turned so fast to look at me that I missed the action. He looked appalled. "No, for Christ's sake, I'm not gonna kill the gardener. I'm gonna kill Delasantos. That fucking little maggot needs to die. Jesus, you really think I'm gonna have the nerve to kill somebody in front of you?" Peter chuckled maniacally. "Give me some credit, baby."

"But that's what we're doing, right? You're showing me how you hunt. But...but...how..." I was a fucking stuttering mess.

Peter popped the console up and leaned over. He pushed the release on my seat belt while simultaneously pulling me out of the passenger seat, dragging me over to straddle his lap while he pushed the seat back again. He latched on to the sides of my face and looked me squarely in the eyes. All signs of sick humor were gone, replaced with seriousness and intensity.

Peter spoke distinctly and softly, "I wouldn't be stupid enough to go and kill someone in front of you, Bella. For you to witness something like that in your current state would send you running away from me. But, yes, this is how I kill. You need to know this. You have to come to terms with the fact that I kill people. I have killed thousands, Bella. Thousands. And only in the last nineteen or so years have I started to care about who or what I kill."

I thought about that while I studied his face for a moment. I realized that even though I thought I had, I had not fully accepted the 'idea' that Peter killed people. Live, human, people who had families, who walked on two legs and who could smile, who could laugh. Who could hold and comfort children.

And who could hurt them as well, physically and emotionally. Children were innocent and easy prey for those who wanted to take advantage of them. Even their own parents. Or their friends.

And sometimes, as a child, if you're not strong enough, peer pressure will take its toll on an already damaged psyche. The next thing you know, it's those children who are doing the hurting. It's those who have lost their innocence.

It was a chain these days that could not be broken.

We were all born innocent. It was how we chose to live our lives that separated the good from the bad. Most of us were good, but to say that evil didn't exist in this world would be a fucking lie. It was also true that sometimes in our lives we could be forced to do things that could cost us that innocence because sometimes those things were detrimental to our survival.

Like Peter. He didn't ask to be a vampire. But a vampire was what he was. And he had to do what he had to do to survive. Because Peter...Peter had to survive. He had to exist. I couldn't imagine life without him. Was it selfish? Was it selfish of me to think that? Was it selfish of him to be that way? Yes. But, so fucking what? That was the way of the world.

And it's still that way.

"So...so what you're trying to...tell me, is that you're some sort of vigilante vampire? That...that you...kill_..._you sustain yourself by living off the blood of rapists, off of drug dealers?" It felt like there was a knot the size of a grapefruit in my esophagus. I tried to shake the feeling off, but it just couldn't be helped.

I continued. Peter just waited patiently for me to get it out. "Why would you...why would you even care? Wouldn't it just be easier to just take what you need?"

He studied my face for a moment, looking at me questioningly. "I do take what I need. But...I never asked to be _this_, and I don't know entirely why I decided that I didn't want to kill just anybody anymore. I guess maybe it's because I grew tired of seeing the good taken advantage of, innocent people being hurt, and I was one of those doing the hurting. I guess maybe too many rotten fucking things have happened to me, and if I can rid the world of some of the filth that has the privilege of walking on it, then I can look in the mirror." He scoffed, "And I can live with myself."

It slipped out because it was the truth. "You're playing God."

He ran his hands through my hair, adjusting himself so I could straddle his lap more comfortably while I studied his eyes.

He continued, "Killing murderers, molesters, rapists, druggies and their dealers is only half of it. But I've studied them enough to know where I can find them in any city, in any town in North America. I'm a creature with superhuman capabilities. Nothing can hide from me. And if they run, they're not gonna get far. I use resources available to anyone. Each person I kill is different. Some...I bury, so no one will blame someone else for my deed. That could make matters worse for others. Some, I just leave em' where I found them. Like Delasantos. I'll leave his ass wherever I take him out. That girl deserves to know he won't ever hurt her or anybody else again." Peter looked at me with intent, with determination, and with the truth of his words.

He would indeed.

He whispered quietly, "Maybe somebody has to, Bella."

"Tell me...Tell me you don't...play with your food," I stated. Having been taunted by one vampire was almost as bad as actually having been almost killed.

"I don't play with my food. But I do make sure that the ones like Delasantos damn well see me coming," he stated firmly.

"D...Never mind," I started to ask him a question. A question that was foolish to ask.

"What?" he said softly, with encouragement.

I sighed. I don't know why the thought had crept up, but I found myself wishing he didn't have to take the blood of somebody who could rape a baby as a way to sustain himself. I knew Peter was far from being pure, but he was a good man. He had a good heart.

"Doesn't it...I don't know, I just can't help but think that...I wish you didn't have to drink the blood of someone so vile. Like a child molester. Or...or even a some...coked out whore."

And that thought was also kind of disturbing. An image came to mind of Peter's lips at the base of the throat of one of the regulars that frequented the bar, holding her intimately while draining the life out of her. I was putting too much thought into it.

I looked away from him because I couldn't believe I was so fucked in the mind at that point to worry about how he was holding a woman while he drained her. Just stupid.

Peter, though, wasn't having it. He grabbed a hold of my chin with his forefingers and turned my face to look at him.

He looked calm and understanding. Our faces were barely two inches apart, and he was looking right into me. "Blood is blood, Bella. I decide what I let affect me. Blood is blood. Sure, it's true that some smell and taste...better than others, and in those cases you almost think that it's satisfying some deep, dark craving. But the majority of the time, it's all the same. It's just a state of mind that some have. People who do evil things have bad blood, right, and I'm absorbing it?"

"Peter, I'm not..." I didn't want him to think I was questioning his logic. I understood it completely. I just couldn't help thinking about it, is all. He interrupted me, though.

"It's fine. You're just telling me what's running through your head, and I'd rather you spit it the fuck out then keep it to yourself. I mean, you won't accept this for all that it is if we don't talk about it. And it's not like I've never thought of it that way. But just because somebody's addicted to drugs, it doesn't make them a bad person through and through. It makes them an easy target for the likes of me, though."

Peter had been staring off to the left, a far away look in his eyes. He focused on me again and spoke softly, "I can't be poisoned, I can't catch anything, and you know what? Some of these humans who think they're indestructible, well, they're finding out that I hold the franchise on that little quality. But I will tell you this, every now and then I do find somebody who's...appealing. Somebody who is worth something in this world. And I do take them. I'm not pretending to be a saint, I'm far from it."

This conversation wasn't just taking its toll on me, it was taking its toll on Peter. It was evident in the way his brow was furrowed with concern, but he was trying maintain a calm demeanor. His eyes seemed to plead with me to understand, and I could feel his foot tapping on the floorboard of the truck. And every now and then that bottom lip of his would twitch.

I looked him squarely in the eyes again. "How often do you hunt?" I asked. We might as well get it all out.

He shrugged. "Depends. I kill on the average about four to eight people a month. I can live on less, but I get cranky."

_Oh, for fuck's sake._

I steeled my face. "But you kill people. You kill people who have mothers and fathers, and sons and daughters who love them. You kill people who have families, Peter. What about them? How does what you do ease their suffering?"

Peter didn't answer right away. He just stared into my eyes. "It doesn't. But...I don't give a fuck. Maybe it makes me a selfish contradicting son of a bitch, but I don't give a fuck. And sometimes I have to think that maybe I'm doing their families a favor. Delasantos is a father, you know. He's got a boy and a girl. But I gotta believe those kids will be better off without that piece of shit around. I gotta believe that as they grow up, they won't be following in their daddy's footsteps. And if they did, well, there's a good chance that I'll be around looking for them."

I had to throw it all out. My mind was just a mess. I wasn't condoning the way Peter chose his...kills, but I couldn't necessarily disagree with the way he was going about it. It was all just too much to fathom.

He was rubbing and squeezing my thighs with his hands, which in turn was making it even more difficult to concentrate. Peter's sweet breath was invading my senses, washing over me and making me a little light-headed. Or maybe it was the conversation, I didn't know.

"Okay, well, what about animals? The Cullens do it well enough. You spent time with them. Have you ever even tried it? Did you ever give the alternative some thought?" God, it was hot. I started fanning myself.

Peter sighed, long and hard, and took a moment to answer. "No, I haven't. I've never had any desire to try and...and I don't want to. There is no easy way to explain the attraction we have to humans and their blood when we can't fully explain the feelings and the urges behind it. It's a desire like no other, and that desire affects us physically. You know this. It's a constant urge that, yes, we do grow accustomed to. Yes, we are able to exhibit control over it. But, to deny yourself the one thing that can quench it, for even what is just a fraction in time for us?" Peter spoke passionately, shaking his head minutely.

"No. I might be a strong enough individual to do it, but I've had no desire to try. Not only that, but I believe our presence in the animal kingdom does upset the natural balance of things. Animals can think, they have problem solving skills. They can even love. I saw this thing on Animal Planet once where a lioness lost her cub, and she came across this stray wildebeest calf. Anyways, she didn't kill it. She gave it affection, she cleaned it, and she protected it. When a herd crossed her path, she forgot about the calf and she did what came naturally to her. She started to stalk a potential kill. The calf started to run off. You could practically see the realization as it hit her. She was confused. She knew she should kill it, it was food! But she didn't. She let it go. Animals generally kill to survive, Bella. They don't kill because somebody looked at them funny, or because they don't believe in the same God. Or the fourteen bucks in their wallet, they don't..."

I interrupted, "Okay, stop. Stop. I get what you're saying, I do. I don't...I don't disagree with you."

I was still fanning myself. Peter blew cold air into my face. "In a way...in a way, the way you hunt is sort of...um...admirable. Oh, god, I can't believe I just said that...I mean, you're not...killing just anybody. Jesus Christ. I don't know how to think through this. I don't know how I should feel."

I didn't. But I did. The thing was, I couldn't just come right out and say, 'I can live with the way you do it', or that it was okay. I wasn't in a position to do so. I was a human. I was what a typical vampire killed. To condone it openly, out loud for Peter, was fine.

But to hear myself say it, well, it wasn't the kind of shit you want to stand on a soapbox for. At least not in front of as many people that went to the bar looking for a drink on a Friday night.

I couldn't help but think about the future. A future with Peter.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked softly. I'm not sure how long I sat there staring at a piece of lint on his shirt, but he was all blurry when I looked back up at him.

I sighed, and choked the words out, "The future." I searched his eyes, not sure if I could find the answer to my unspoken question.

Peter grabbed my hands which had been, unknowingly to me, bunching up the front of his shirt. He rubbed them with his own.

Peter smiled softly and looked down at our hands. He spoke low. You could hear the rich bass tones in his voice so clearly, and I could even feel it seeping into me. Peter's voice was a sound I could never tire of hearing.

"Well, I know a thing or two about that. I know that as a human, you can't fully agree with where I'm coming from because, well...you're human. Our senses, our feelings, are so much more powerful...Now, don't give me that look, but it's the truth, Bella..."

I gave him a look alright.

"My point is, everything is different. Do you think that if the shoe was on the other foot, I as a human wouldn't find it at least a little appalling? I mean, _you_ do. You're human, even if you find yourself able to...agree with the way I handle satiating my needs. Anyways, until you..._if_ you choose this later on down the road, no matter how much you prepare yourself for it, you still cannot fathom what it's like until it's too late. Your mind just goes..." Peter's eyes filled with sadness, and he looked like he was trying to remember something, maybe something that was better left forgotten.

He was silent for a moment while he studied my face. I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing.

"Maybe it'll be different for you. You'll need to make some decisions. I can't make them for you. But I can tell you that whatever you want to do, I'm with you all the way. I'll be with you." It sounded almost like he was making a declaration, a promise.

"What do you mean? What do you mean you'll be with me?" I was confused. Was he saying what I thought he was?

Peter sighed. His gaze was very intent. "I'm talking about feeding. I believe it's something we have to do together, one way or the other, otherwise we'd be questioning each others logic, each others...mistakes. And that's not healthy. It could cause resentment. I don't want to go through that. And I don't wanna put you through it. I'd do anything for you, Bella. But I do ask that you consider my position."

I fell in love with him all over again. Peter would make the sacrifice and kill animals if...if I chose to change. And, of course, I would probably do just that. But there were things to do, things to take care of. And the truth was that so much had happened in such a short amount of time, and I needed time to absorb it all. I didn't want him to change for me. I didn't want to change him at all. But this...this was the biggest motherfucking deal of all fucking deals!

He would change me. He would keep me forever.

It was overwhelming. I could in no way doubt that he did indeed love me. However, I didn't necessarily agree that we couldn't work through the issue of feeding if it came to...to each their own.

"I love you even more for saying that. But, I don't know if I agree with your logic that it's something we'd have to do together. I just...hmm. I think anything is possible. There might be incidents or...feelings that arise, but we could work through them if we each do our own thing. We'd just have to talk it out. Don't you think so?"

Peter was silent for a moment. "No," he said firmly.

"Why not?" I asked indignantly.

"Because...okay. Hypothetical situation here. I stay on my...diet. You turn, and you decide you need to be a vegetarian. If you fuck up, how can I even begin to sympathize or support you? I don't think I can, Bella. Not only that, but you might start to resent me after a while because I've got...control, and you don't. Whatever we do, whatever you decide, we do it together. Besides, I have this thing about feeding my mate."

"What?" I said with a little disbelief. He was completely serious.

"I have this thing about feeding my mate. Call it whatever you want - control, a caveman tendency, whatever. But I have this thing about caring for...you. I might let you cook in my house, but it's food I bought, food I supply, and if you...if you turn, it'll be the blood I hunt down, human or animal."

"I'm sorry, but that's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard. I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I buy my own food now, I cook for myself, goddammit. I don't need a man telling me when or what I can't eat, and if I feel like taking out some grizzly bear or pretty boy, I'm damn well gonna do it. What the hell, Peter!?"

Peter started to laugh in octaves. "I don't want to control your life or what you do, but I wanna do this one thing, Bella. When you're hungry, I'll feed you. And I'll feed you whatever you want. But _I'll_ feed you. That's the only strokin' of my ego that I'll ask for."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Can you at least tell me why it's so important to you?"

Peter stared at me with penetrating eyes. "Not right now. Maybe some other time. Kiss me."

Peter tried to kiss me, but I leaned back. He leaned forward. "Come on, kiss me."

"No. You tricked me. You should have told me what we were doing when we left the house." Peter kept moving his head, trying to find my lips. I kept dodging him. He held my arms down with his so I couldn't move off of him. I tried, but all I did was grind into him, and he liked that.

I was just screwing around. I wasn't actually mad at him. I needed a little reprieve from this conversation, and I think Peter knew it. I struggled to get my arms up and he let me so I could push his face back when he moved to attack. I giggled.

"Come on," he whined, "kiss me. I'll never lie or deceive you again, I swear."

"Like I'm gonna believe that. That sad little puppy dog look can only work for so long, you know."

Peter froze, and his gaze hardened. But not really. "You're comparing me to a dog?"

His question was emphasized with a half purr-half growl. A very deep resonating response that managed to vibrate through my thighs as I sat on him, and into the pit of my belly, up into my nipples, and down into my puss.

"Let me rephrase that," I said breathlessly. "That sad, stray kitty look can only rub me the right way for, ummm...so long. Ohhhh...you're a kitty. Who better get his dick under control. We're in the parking lot of a cemetery, for Christ's sake."

It happened quickly, but as I was shoving Peter's face away from mine, he had grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking my head back and exposing my throat to him.

I didn't have the will to fight anymore. I knew Peter had been going for my neck, and instead of pushing him away, I grabbed my own handfuls of his hair and urged him toward me. His assault along my windpipe with just his lips was enough to take my breath away, but his tongue licking my skin as he traveled down my neck turned the nerves running down my back, to my breasts, and down into my core into live wires. Peter had another gift, alright. The man's mouth was just full of undiscovered sin.

"I don't kn...Bella, you might be right. We should stop. You can't come quietly and you'd definitely wake the dead."

"Ha ha." Peter had pulled me forward by my neck as he sat back. The leather on the seat of the truck squeaked and gave a little as Peter got us more comfortable. His lips traveled up my throat. My skin couldn't even make up its mind on what it wanted to do. His cold breath traveled down the column of my neck giving me goose bumps and setting me on fire.

He dragged his bottom lip over mine, and I grabbed it with my teeth as Peter swiped my top lip with his tongue. I let go of his lip and opened for him. Peter's tongue slowly took over my mouth, licking the roof and dancing with mine. It was hard to keep up with him, but I was slowly figuring it out. His right hand had found my left breast and he squeezed me softly, his thumb grazing my shirt and bra-clad nipple.

The rest of our body parts were only doing what came naturally. I could feel Peter's erection as it pressed against my core, and the ache would only intensify when he would undulate his hips, causing such a breathtaking friction. I could feel the wetness gathering, and my blood was beginning to boil and my heart was pounding. It was a deafening sound.

_Thump,thump,thump._

It wasn't my heart, however. We broke away. Peter did not look out the window. He had his face in my arm as I glared at the gardener, who had interrupted our little session by tapping on the window.

"Take it somewhere else." he said through the glass as he returned my glare. He was a middle-aged, average size male, with reddish brown hair and green eyes.

He turned around, and walked across the lot to another side of the cemetery. Peter, I thought, had been taken off guard. I remember hearing a sharp and quick growl before we were interrupted, but I couldn't be sure. He was looking at me a little warily, with obsidian black eyes, while trying to catch his breath.

We both looked out the window, watching the gardener as he would walk a little, turn around and glare, and then do it again. I looked at Peter, who smiled at me.

"Thirsty?" I asked.


	14. Chapter 13 PATWAP Part IV

Chapter 13. Pledging Away The Weekend At Peter's Part IV:

DFUI, With A Side of Marcy.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

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***P*E*T*E*R***

Things were starting to look up. When you manage to escape walking through a pile of dog shit, you should always look at it as a good day. Because walking through a pile of dog shit was the worst. Humans and vampires could unanimously agree that walking through dog shit could just ruin a day - and a good pair of shoes.

And if you're a vampire walking through dog shit, you might as well just fucking hang it up and go hide in a hole.

Forever.

God forbid you get caught walking through dog shit by another vampire. If you can't _see_ it, you sure as hell should be able to _smell_ it.

Bella walked through dog shit once when she was fourteen. She proceeded to throw up after attempting to dig it out of the grooves of her tennis shoe. When that happened in the dream and down in that hole, part of my subconscious registered my laughter because it had been so loud and echoing off the cistern walls.

The pile of shit - not just any pile of shit either - was one of those five pound loads that some of the bigger dogs like to leave, like Labs, or Mastiff's, or big, gigantic fucking mutts. It was sitting right smack dab on the little walkway going through Bella's front yard, and when I got out of the truck, I nearly walked right through it. Nearly. It wasn't such a crappy day after all because my eyes caught the anomaly sitting there at the very last moment.

If anything was out of place in her yard, I generally liked to think I could have found it immediately. But since my mind was focused on the events of that morning, and everything that I had heard and experienced, my senses weren't up to par. That was why I just _barely_ escaped sticking my foot in it. And _fuck_ that. There was no way in hell I would clean _that_ shit out of the grooves in my boot.

"Ewww...gross." Bella had gotten out and was on my right side. While I stared at the pile of shit. She quickly looked away.

"Yeah, no shit."

She laughed. I didn't think it was funny. There was a 99.9% chance that _I_ was going to be the one to scoop that shit off her walk.

Bella stepped off the walk, and she gave the pile of shit at least an extra three feet of distance because it was going to fly up and fucking attack her.

"Peterrr...I can't pick that up. I'll throw up." I stepped over the pile of shit and followed her to the door.

"Yeah, I know. Where's your spade?"

Bella told me she thought it was on the porch when I knew damn well it was in the garage. I still went through the act of looking on the porch, though. After removing the pile of shit from her walk, and then proceeding to flip that fucker across the street over to her neighbor's yard because it was probably from their free-roaming son of a bitch anyways, I went back into the house to 'measure' Bella's floorboard while she packed up a few things to take home.

She didn't really have any idea. She didn't realize I could see the ins and outs of dog shit - every parasite-infested pore, every piece of fat... Bella was right. It was gross. I was gonna make a point of finding the most disgusting pile of shit I could find for her to look at once I killed her.

I was having a hard time staying focused. That morning had taken its toll. The first thing was that I felt like such a shit for losing it on her when all she was telling me was how she felt, and she had only spoken the truth. I couldn't in any way hold anything against Bella when it came to her lack of belief in God or Heaven.

The fact was, Bella was only 21 years old. She was still young, and in the ways of the mind, she was still immature. But she had experienced an entirely different world where the mythological existed. The things she was taught about vampires and werewolves when she was young was not what she had eventually learned.

She sure as hell wasn't going to believe that Heaven was out there and that someone was watching over us when perhaps science could explain most of it. Science could not explain Heaven. She could only believe what she could see at that point. The truth was, she had experienced too much...and not enough of what she should have.

Bella was right, and I was wrong. She had every right to believe what she wanted to believe, and I was an asshole for expecting her to think otherwise. What I had wanted was for her to believe for _me_, not for herself. I'd wanted her to believe for me because I could tell her the truth and she could accept it for what it was.

DFUI. Divinely Fucked Up Intervention.

I couldn't hold it against her, but that didn't mean it didn't piss me off. I wasn't pissed off with _her._ I was pissed off because 'someone' was obviously interfering in an indirect way when it was no longer wanted. The future had changed. This was _our_ life now, and she had no right to interfere. No right at all. I was pissed off because I was scared. Showing her that place - that place where life had ended and then begun again - was her way of telling me to tell her the truth, which I nearly did.

But why now? Why not yesterday?

I was frightened out of my fucking mind, but not frightened enough to not know that if I went to Bella with everything I had, I would lose her. I believed I would. I just didn't know what to do.

I needed help. It wasn't like I could slap her upside the head and say 'Here, believe this'... because the lack of experiences in that area in Bella's life would still make her have doubt, and doubt was something I couldn't afford. She could have very well as passed it off as some sort of fucking vampire gift, and I couldn't afford that.

I guess, in a way, I was holding her lack of faith against her. I guess, in a way, I was cheating her out of the knowledge she should have had - the truth that she deserved. But I only wanted her, and I was too frightened to find out what it would do to her, and to me.

It wasn't a question anymore. I had gone completely fucking insane. Sure, I could think rationally, and I could think about what I wanted to happen, and that was for Charlotte to just leave us be. Yet, at the same time, a part of me wanted to tell Bella everything, but I wanted to know beforehand that when I told her there would be no doubt hidden behind her eyes.

If it was too much for me to handle, how could she even begin to fathom the sheer power of it? How could she fathom that I had already been in the shower with her seven thousand, seven hundred and twelve times up until last Wednesday? How could she fathom that I had seen her at her best... and at her worst?

How could I lose something so special and so powerful in her own right? She could take away countless minutes and hours and days and years of pain that were so fucking deep with just the caress of her hand through my hair. With every little kiss and every little touch, a tie to her would strengthen - when it was already unbreakable to begin with. My heart - my _dead_ heart - was becoming stronger, and my bond with her was tightening to the point that if I couldn't be near her for any given moment now, I felt I would surely die and crumble into a million pieces.

I couldn't lose her. I couldn't lose Bella, no matter what. I would sacrifice my own sanity before I would sacrifice hers. If anything was plain and simple, it was that.

Bella took the Delasantos situation better than I anticipated. She took it too well, actually, and I knew the reason why I almost walked through that pile of dog shit was because as soon as she saw Marcy, and spent some time with her, she would realize that it was my intention to kill her... and I wondered if that was when she would break.

I should never have done it. I should never have taken her to see Delasantos. He looked at her. He saw her. And now that fucker had to die. He was going to die anyways, but he was now number one on my list. It wasn't because I thought Bella's safety was an issue, it was because that fucker had looked at _her_.

Crazy much? Definitely. I was going to kill that fucker now because his eyes should never have been graced with the beauty that was Bella.

I had a notion to go and kill that fucking gardener, too, for ruining what had been a great dry fuck. My dick had been aching ever since we had taken a shower together, and Bella squirting into my hand. Goddamn, did I want her to come that hard again.

Maybe I wasn't giving her enough credit. Maybe as much as I thought I knew Bella, the truth was maybe I _didn't_ know it all. I knew that it would be difficult for her to even think she could ever kill another human being, but it was important for her to understand that taking life was what we were built for. And it was my strong belief that we were meant to take human life, not animal. The Cullens had exposed her to their ways and their beliefs, and those were what I thought were 'ingrained' into her mind. And they were, to a point.

None of us asked for this existence, just like Bella wasn't going to ask me to change her. She wouldn't ask. It would merely be an admission of yes or no - she either did or didn't want to be with me forever. Asking someone to kill you would just be fucking insane.

I could look at her and know that after today the subject wouldn't be discussed again until the decision was made. And even then, it would probably be a vague conversation if everything went in my favor.

And my flavor.

Goddamn, I wanted her forever and I was going to do anything to secure that. I was going to do whatever she wanted. If she couldn't kill humans, that was fine. It was an easy decision to make, and it was a decision easily carried out and conquered by someone like me.

Yeah, right. Sucking deer blood was gonna...suck. Big time.

There was no doubt it would be difficult, but there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for her. And the thing was, if that was the choice she made, I would do it and I would do it well. I believed that. I could give up human blood, and I knew she would never hold failure against me. _If_ I failed, which I wouldn't because I knew without a doubt that anything I did for Bella I would not fail at.

But I also believed that I was doing something good for humanity by taking away the likes of Delasantos, and I was giving peace to those who wanted the gift of death. And I wanted and wished that there was some way I could convince her that what I did, and what we would do together, was _also_ the 'right' way.

My reason for wanting to feed Bella was something that really wasn't up for negotiation. It was something we had to do together because that's just the way it needed to be. Hunting...no matter how it was done, was one of the most intimate ways to feel close to your mate. To your lover.

The trust involved when you give over to that sense is something I didn't take lightly - the unity you feel with your mate; the feeling of being tuned into what they need and how much they need; the desire it creates for the other, in both non-sexual and sexual ways. It was my desire to see my wife satiated in every way.

The fact was, Bella hadn't always taken care of herself. There were instances in her childhood when something would happen at school, whether it was being picked on by a boy or a girl, or she was too damn busy doing her schoolwork. And then there was her mother, who was gallivanting across the city with a man here and there. And then there was James, who managed to beat the shit out of her so badly that it took a good month before she could actually sit down and stomach a complete meal.

And then there was Edward, and that experience had taken its toll the most. She had lost so much weight. Her stomach had sunken in, she'd lost muscle mass, and her hip bones had protruded out alarmingly. Technically, she had looked like she was borderline anorexic. Then it happened again with Jake, only not so severe. Then her mother died. The fact was, when life was at its worst, Bella never cared for Bella.

You're not supposed to watch someone emotionally fall apart when they think they're alone, and no one can hear or see them. You don't want to watch it happen time and time again, night after night, and day after day. You don't want to see the act they put on for everyone else's benefit when they can't even make the effort to act in the first place.

You're not supposed to see them realize that they need to eat something because they stood up too fast and fell half in and half out of the tub, nearly cutting their head open on the corner of the bathroom cabinet inside their old apartment.

You're not supposed to look at them and see yourself at several points throughout your own life.

It had nothing to do with wanting to have control over Bella, or forcing her to kill when she wasn't ready to kill. It had _everything_ to do with wanting to attend to her and her needs, and protecting her no matter what or who was involved. And, sure, it would be a bit of a boost to my manly ego, but my intentions were what they were.

Plus, the fact was that if she chose this, and if she chose to kill humans, she was going to need help. Because for the first few months it wasn't going to matter to her if she had the most vile creature standing before her or the Pope himself.

It wasn't necessarily true that I was no longer going by the book because I had every intention of replacing the floor. It had been well maintained, but it had been in the house since it was built. The stone around her kiva needed to be replaced as well. Instead of doing it in July, I decided I would do it the weekend she was off.

I was tired of watching her trip over uneven surfaces when she had worked so hard at walking straight and true over even ones. Straight and true. At least one of us was walking the line that should always be walked.

***B*E*L*L*A***

We stopped at my house long enough for me to grab my pajamas, an extra set of clothes, my swimsuit, and some underwear. I also got out some super duper concealer and did a quick job of trying to cover up what was now a lime-sized hickey on my neck. Though I could smile about it I knew for sure that it will be stared at and I would most likely receive some intense shit for it.

While we were there, Peter checked out the board in the hallway so he could figure out what he would need to fix it. He also found my old baby book sitting on a bookshelf in the living room that I had taken when Renee passed away. He brought it along.

He had grown remarkably quiet since we had left the cemetery. When we had entered my house, and while he looked around and through my books, he had grown even quieter still.

Quiet for Peter. I passed it off as it was only the second time he had been in my house, and he was just looking around.

We arrived at Marcy's around twenty minutes before one. My mind, of course, during the drive had been on the conversation we had had while we were at the cemetery. It was then that I remembered the question I had forgotten to ask earlier.

Peter slowed down to pull off onto the little driveway in front of the house.

"What did you mean earlier when you said that...killing those who are not good is only half of it?"

Peter opened his door and stepped out. "You're about to meet a sliver of the other half. Come on." He shut his door. I knew I wasn't going to get a straight answer, but I understood very well what he had just said. I got out and he was there, in front of me, a little nervous. He grabbed my hand and we started to walk up to the house.

There was a sienna retaining wall that surrounded the front of the property, and it had an arbor gate that was thick with ivy. The house wasn't like the newer flashy architectural adobes that dominated the area. It was older. It was a quaint little ranch-style with dark, rustic brown walls, large picture windows, and a partially-opened spacious patio area across the front. There was a man-made, miniature rocky creek going through the front yard toward a small pond. The grass across the property needed to be cut.

Peter suddenly pulled me to a halt. "Whoa. What the fuck?"

I looked at him and followed his eyes down to the stone walkway we were walking along.

Sitting right smack dab in the middle of said walkway was a great big pile of dog shit.

It wasn't that much different than the pile of shit Peter had almost walked in when he'd gotten out of the truck at my house. Peter had scooped up the offending shit and gotten rid of it because there was no way in hell I was picking up _that_ pile.

"Ewww. What's with all the dog shit today?"

"It's a sign," he said. I looked up at his face, but he was just staring at the pile of shit blankly.

"What do you mean it's a sign?" I asked.

Peter just sighed and shook his head. He was still looking at it. "To never, ever, treat you like shit...cuz if I do, the shit's gonna find me."

I laughed at his ridiculousness. "Whatever. Quit staring at it. You sure as hell are seeing more of it than I am." I walked around the pile, pulling Peter along with me.

"What, you don't believe me?" Peter pulled me into his side and wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we walked. He grinned a little. "Marcy doesn't even own a dog, and I hardly think the miniature pinscher next door could make a pile like _that_."

"You'd be surprised. You're a superstitious bastard, aren't you?" I asked.

"You have no idea." He pulled me closer and kissed me firmly on the forehead before letting go and grabbing my hand again. We climbed the two steps up to a high beamed viga porch, which had old stone supports. There were scattered talavera pots containing herbs, succulents, and ivy. They hadn't been very well taken care of, and some of them were dying.

"Aww, fuck me," Peter muttered as we walked up to the door.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"Something's cooking, like fat...and burnt corn...and sugar."

"Cookies!" I smiled at him as I brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Peter knocked on the door. There was a bench next to the door, and it had two days' worth of newspapers sitting on it. Somewhere inside came the wails of a baby. The drapes on the windows inside had been pulled closed, blocking out the light.

"Trust me, babe, they don't fuckin' resemble cookies when I'm upchucking them. They kind of resemble dog shit..."

"Drop it."

The handle turned, and the door opened to a girl who was about my age. She had long, dirty blond hair that was pulled back into a messy ponytail with a few pieces framing her round face. She was wearing an oversize t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and she was padding around barefoot. She looked very tired and a little on edge.

She looked at me quickly before looking up at Peter. Immediately, she was a little taken aback before her features relaxed and she smiled just slightly.

She pulled the door all the way open and moved to the side. "Hey, come on in. The house is a little messy. It's the kid's fault," she said, smiling and looking off into the room.

Peter stepped through the threshold, pulling me with him. "Sure, blame it on the butterball who can't talk. Becky, this is Bella. My girlfriend. Bella, Becky."

Becky's eyebrows lifted up in surprise. Her eyes bulged out a little while looking at Peter's back. Then she looked at me. "Hey." She lifted her head, jutting her chin out a little, and smiled.

"Hey." I smiled back. The house wasn't dirty at all. The living room was a step down out of the small foyer by the front door. A curved doorway to a small kitchen was on the right, and I could see a fresh batch of sugar cookies sitting on the counter. There was a hallway in the middle, which led back to the bedrooms and a bathroom, and the living room was off to the left. Simple and quaint.

The only visible mess was on the floor in front of a flat screen TV, which sat on an entertainment center. A discarded white baby blanket, a bottle, a pacifier, and a few toys surrounded a seven or eight month old baby girl, who was wearing a pink and white sleeper. She was sitting up, and she was crying and biting a clear gel teething ring, which she had fisted in her chubby little hand.

She was inconsolable. She had a full head of dark hair, the top of which was tied up into a knot on top of her head. Her creamy skin was all blotchy, and her cheeks were red. Her other hand was playing with her covered toes. She was watching SpongeBob, but not... because she was looking at us. At me.

"She's so cute. See, it is her fault, Peter." I gave her a little wave. She had great, big, green eyes and chubby little arms and legs. The little wrinkle on her wrist was cute.

"And then some. She's sick. That's why she's crying. Her name's Summer," Becky said. The little girl took the ring out of her mouth and started crawling over to us with it in her hand. She was clearly hurting, and although she wasn't crying loudly, she wanted some attention.

"Oh. What's wrong with her?" I asked. Becky had closed the door and stepped down out of the foyer. Upon her daughter reaching her, she bent down and picked her up.

"She's got a cold. She's had a fever the last two days, and she's been pulling at her ears, so I'm pretty sure she's got an ear infection." Becky looked at Peter. "But, yeah, um, I'm kind of glad you're here. I gotta take her down to the clinic before they close. I called for a nurse to come and sit with mom while I was gone, but she just called to tell me she's running late because her other client might be actively dying. I tried Uncle Larry, but he hasn't called back. Think you could sit with my mom until then? You wouldn't have to do anything. But anything she might need, she could probably tell you...Summer, quit it..."

Becky was clearly stressed. It was in her voice and in her eyes, and they were glassy. She was choking it back, and trying to keep control. Between a sick daughter and a dying mother, it was understandable. Summer was pulling on the loose hair by her mother's face rather hard, and she was still looking at me.

Peter saw her distress, too. He glanced at me real quick and said, "Yeah, that's fine. We can hang around."

The baby let go of Becky's hair and was trying to pull herself out of her mother's arms. The thing was, she was reaching for me for some unknown reason. I grabbed her little fist and gave it a shake. Becky was looking at her and at me, and I eyed her questioningly, asking if I could hold Summer while she tried to tell Peter something. "Um, about mom... She's sick. You sure you want to hold her?"

"Yeah, I'd love to. I'm sure I've already been exposed to worse," I answered.

She looked at me and then at Peter, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, not from him. I work around people, so just the airborne stuff," I told her.

"Cute," Peter said, smiling and trying to look at me evilly.

Becky slid Summer into my waiting arms. Summer was staring at my face, and she ran her little finger over my nose.

"Buh?"

"Bella," I answered. I started making faces at her, and she looked at me in awe. Just because I was someone new and interesting, I guess.

"What do you do?" asked Becky.

"Um, I work at a bar. I'm a cocktail waitress and a bartender," I answered.

Becky looked between me and Peter curiously, and folded her arms across her chest.

Peter explained, "Yeah, I met her at Generations. She works there and goes to school. Bella just got her AA in education this last semester."

"Ohhhh. You know, Mom's gonna have a field day with this. You're supposed to be gay." Becky grinned.

Peter gave her something in between a dirty and a humorous look. "Yeah, I know she will."

I was patting Summer's behind and leg while she continued to look at me like I was the most interesting thing in the world, and she fisted some of my hair while she stared. I walked a little bit away from Peter and Becky, over towards the TV. I picked up a stuffed bunny and listened to Becky tell Peter about Marcy.

"Anyways, um...about mom. She can't swallow too well anymore. We dropped IV fluids last night, so she's off nourishment. She went out on me this morning a little bit, but we've known it's been working up towards her brain. It's not gonna be much longer. I don't expect her to last the week."

Peter was listening intently as I watched and listened and distracted Summer. I felt a knot grow in the pit of my stomach. I felt so awful for her. I felt so awful for her mother.

Peter asked her, "You think that's such a bad thing?"

Becky shook her head. "No. But it's hard nonetheless. I'm...having a hard time with this. I hate seeing her hurting so bad, and I wish she'd just...it's gonna be hard." She tried to smile, willing herself to not break down and cry.

It wasn't hard to tell what she was thinking. If her mom was in constant pain, and if ending the pain meant death, she wanted her mom to die so she wouldn't have to suffer anymore. Yet, at the same time, she was losing her mom.

It brought too many memories to the surface, and it was out of my mouth before I realized I really didn't have any right to say anything. "You can never be ready for something like that, not when it comes to your mom. You know it's going to happen, but you're never really ready for it."

Peter and Becky both just looked at me, and I internally cringed. Becky nodded a little, looking between Peter and me.

Peter explained, "Um, Bella lost her mom a short time ago. She got sick and had pneumonia, and her heart gave out. The docs told Bella it could happen, but her mom got better for a short spell, and then..." Peter didn't finish, he just motioned towards me.

Becky nodded and looked at me. "It's not the same, but you're right. It really hits home when it's a parent or a child. I work in the ICU out at Vincent's. I've seen it over and over, but still..."

I nodded at her. I had forgotten she was a nurse.

"Have you been working?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No, not for the last three weeks now. I'm on FMLA."

I nodded at her. Summer touched my cheek and I turned back to make faces at her.

"Oh, there's another thing. Mom's decided she doesn't want you dumping her over the mountain. She wants you to fly her down to the Caribbean and spread her out over a reef. She says there are too many dead people up here and all they do is fucking talk."

"What?" Peter said, laughing.

Becky was serious, but she was trying to keep herself lighthearted. "No, she's serious. I thought maybe it was the drugs, but uh uh. She told me to keep a spoonful and to then give you the rest... She's been telling me to make sure you do it... every day since last Wednesday. Can...will you do it? I mean, if I have to pay you, I can, but it might..."

Peter looked at her like she was insulting him. "No, you don't have to pay me, Becky. If that's what she wants, then fine. But you both better be sure."

"If that's what she wants, then it's fine with me. Mom never got a chance to go there and she always wanted to, so yeah. If you can do it...I'd rather you did." Becky wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.

"Okay, I'll take care of it. It's not a problem."

I was more than confused as to why Peter would be 'dumping' what was going to be Marcy's ashes over anything. I was confused because I guess I didn't realize how close he was to these people, but I was more confused as to just how he was going to do it. It must have shown on my face because Peter was glancing at me... and grinning internally, I could tell that much.

He looked at me and said, "Marcy wants to be cremated. At first she wanted to be spread over the Rockies, up in Colorado, where she grew up for a while, and then she changed her mind and decided she wanted to be close to home. I guess she's changed her mind again."

I was rocking Summer back and forth on my feet as she played with the string on my hoodie. "Oh. How are you...doing that?"

"I'm gonna fly her up and throw her out the window," Peter answered.

Becky groaned, laughed, and slapped Peter's arm all at the same time. I got a kick at the look that crossed her face as she touched him. It was odd. It was as if could tell something wasn't right with him, but she pushed it off, ignoring it.

I ignored his morbid attempt at humor. "Oh, you're renting a plane?" That was very sweet of him.

Becky and Peter both looked at me. Becky was curious and Peter looked like he just realized he forgot something.

Which he did.

"Um...no. I own a plane. I'm flying her up myself."

I looked at him, shocked. "You own a plane?"

"Yep."

"You're a pilot, too?" I asked.

Becky sang out, "Oooh, keeping secrets from your girlfriend. Not good, Peter." She smiled at me and then looked between us like something was about to go down. "Um, I'm gonna go tell mom you're here. I gotta change my shirt and comb my hair, too. Are you okay watching her for a minute?" she asked me.

"Yeah, we're good. Go ahead," I answered. Becky was trying not to smile as she stepped out of the living room. I looked at Peter and glared at him as he walked over to stand beside me.

"You own a _plane_? What..._kind of a plane_?" I whispered. I realized he was a rich bastard, but _Jesus_. A vampire flying a plane? Was he trying to make up for the fact that he couldn't turn into a fucking bat?

Peter swallowed hard and looked at me with caution. "Um, well, I got my pilot's license seven years ago. I was bored. And, well, I like...flying. I had a little twin turbo prop Cessna at first, but I traded up last year. I use it for business," he said matter-of-factly. "But, um, I use it to go away to hunt, too."

I just looked at him for a moment. Peter groaned.

"I own a Dassault now. Seats eight, two Pratt and Whitneys, and it goes really fast."

"Oh. Really fast."

"Yep, _really_ fast. I can hit Mach 1 if I want to. Wanna go for a ride some time?" he asked hopefully.

"No, not really. You know, this isn't really need-to-know information, but for Christ's sake, Peter, a pilot?! A plane!? Just how much money does something like that cost?" I asked.

Peter grinned. "Thirty seven point eight million, plus taxes and freight. Don't freak out, Bella. And quit cussing in front of the baby."

Summer was looking at Peter, and he waved at her while studying her. "Yep, she's got an ear infection. I can smell it. Bronchitis, too," he said.

I let go of my shock and irritation at Peter. It was just one more thing that I could add to the list of things Peter failed to mention, and I had a feeling it would be never ending.

"She's really warm and really cute, aren't you?" She put her palm on my cheek, and she looked into my eyes.

I made popping sounds at her with my lips and bounced her up and down in my arms. Summer was quiet for the most part, something new and interesting distracting her from the fact that she didn't feel too well. The bunny was stuffed in between my chest and arms, and I talked to her, pulling her attention to the bunny.

I looked up at Peter. He was watching us silently, and his eyes were wide enough that I could see a rim of red creeping through the contacts that were supposed to be obscuring his irises. He was standing perfectly still and looking at me with no expression, really, but just thinking deeply.

I smiled at him. "What?"

His lips twitched up into a lopsided grin for a moment, and he shook his head a little. "Nothing. It's nothing."

I felt a tug at my heart by the way he was looking at me. He was looking at me like he loved me, but there was more to it. It was powerful and so fulfilling to feel it; whatever it was, and I had to look away because it was a little overwhelming.

"Do you...do you want to hold her? Your arms are cool. She'd probably like it," I said.

Peter swallowed hard and shook his head. "No... No." He seemed nervous.

"Hold her," I prodded. I didn't know why, but I wanted to see Peter hold her. I wanted to see him hold a child in his arms. I wanted to see...

"No, Bella. She likes you. I'm a... No, it's not right," he whispered, shaking his head.

"You won't hurt her, dammit. Hold her." I moved closer to move Summer into his arms. He tentatively brought his hands up, but then Becky walked back into the room. Peter pulled back and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. I looked at him and he looked away, frowning a little.

It was something we would definitely discuss later on because it was clear to me that Peter felt that he had no right to hold that child. And that only meant that he clearly _did_ have a problem with how he viewed himself. But I remembered what he had told me about killing that family. About killing that little girl. He wasn't that monster anymore, but it was obvious that he still held it against himself.

Maybe it was something he could never forgive himself for, and maybe I should have just left it alone. But I just couldn't. Knowing what I knew about the man himself - all his shortcomings and where he came from - it was easy to see that Peter would have made a wonderful and loving father had he been given the chance.

It squeezed my heart because I was sure the mother of that girl he killed – had she lived - could never have felt the same way, or could have been capable of that level of forgiveness.

And we would never talk about it.

"Mom's awake. Come on back," Becky said. She grabbed a pair of tennis shoes by the door and walked down the hallway. Peter looked back at me and reached out, putting his hand on the small of my back and urged me forward. I walked up the step and down the short hallway, following Becky into a room off to the right.

What I didn't know was that I would walk out of that room later... and never be the same again.

***P*E*T*E*R***

Life is such a bitch. It was either that, or I was surrounded by them. Probably both.

The first one, of course, was Charlotte. I pretty much got the hint after my near second collision with an even more offending pile of dog shit that even though I was sorry, and that I said it, she was still up there somewhere having a good laugh at my expense, and she was probably thinking, _'Next time you treat her and her opinion like shit, it WILL jump up and smack you right in the face.'_

Or _something_ along those lines.

The second one was Marcy, who had decided that after she unknowingly had the life literally sucked from her, she wanted to be buried out at sea. The Caribbean. One thousand, sixteen hundred and fifty-seven nautical miles compared to what would have been...ten. On my new plane.

She was worth it, though. I _loved_ my plane. It was the only present I ever gave myself, and I did work hard to buy it honestly and outright. What I had forgotten, and more importantly, what I had _honestly_ forgotten, was to tell Bella. And that, itself, was odd. Because even in the future I used to know, it was never brought up. Or used.

That seemed strange, because I truly loved to fly.

I thought it was because it was something I did - something I did for myself. And although I knew Bella didn't care for flying, I guess it was something we would never do together. I wanted to change that, and I was going to figure out a way to do it.

Either way, she was a little hot when she found out. I didn't know if it was because maybe she felt like I was intentionally keeping that piece of information from her, or if it was because she might have been a tad bit embarrassed that she didn't know something about me when Becky and Marcy obviously did. I felt like such a shit. A great big pile of...shit. Dog shit even.

Oh.

_Oh, Charlotte. You are a maniacal bitch._

It wasn't something she didn't know already.

The majority of the time, I had stood there half in and half out of the reality of the situation. I was in it because I knew that Marcy's condition had deteriorated considerably within the last week, and Becky only confirmed it for me. I could smell her when we entered the house. Her scent, which used to smell like warm almonds, was weakened because her blood was carrying cancer cells to other parts of her body. It was eating all the qualities that made her blood whole and clean.

I could hear her breathing every wheezy and struggled breath. I could hear her small whimpers every time she moved just a little. I could hear her heart, and it was battling that which was eating the rest of her organs, and her body.

The thing was, it wasn't ready to give up yet. It was a strong and vital thing. And although the cancer was in her lungs, her heart was still strong, even if it was beating fast and hard with the exertion it was taking for Marcy to just take a breath. She was inevitably going to asphyxiate. It was only a matter of days or even hours before she would finally die, and it was going to hurt no matter what.

And I made the decision right then and there, that I wouldn't let her suffer like that any longer than necessary. It would be quick. And the pain associated with it would not be compared to what she was going through at that moment. She wouldn't even have a clue what hit her.

Maybe I _was_ playing God, but maybe that was why I was built - why any of us were built - because to die slowly and painfully was just as wrong as it was to burn to become what I was. And since I knew what that felt like, I couldn't stand to see someone who had so much to offer to the human race die like that when their life on earth had no more purpose. Mine did.

I was bred to kill.

And I was bred to love.

The goodbyes had already been said. The time was now. And I knew immediately that I would be back in that house that night, when the girls were asleep - Bella, Becky, and Summer.

Summer. She was the other reason I was swimming in my own little world. It wasn't the ball of blubber herself - it was what she represented. She was something I could never have. She was something I yearned for, but I could never achieve. She was something I could see and dream about in the arms of the woman who mattered the most to me.

It was extremely difficult to listen to Becky and watch Bella at the same time. The moment that little girl reached out for Bella, and Bella's non-hesitation to take her willingly into her arms, I was overwhelmed with everything I wanted and could never have.

But it was more than that because I could see into the eyes of the woman who owned my heart, and I could see what she would also miss out on.

It wasn't right. It just wasn't right to steal the opportunity of motherhood away from her, but I would if she wanted it.

I couldn't help but wish I was human. I wanted to be human and in love with Bella. I wanted my ring on her finger, and her hand in mine. I thought about her face, and her looking down at a stick she peed on. I could see her light up with the sheer feeling of wonder because she would be a mother.

I could see her padding around barefoot in the kitchen, one hand on her swelled up stomach, while the other one held her sore back.

I could see us lying in bed as she held my head to her stomach so I could listen to the baby. I wanted to feel it - to touch her round belly, her skin, and my baby kicking inside of her.

I could see me going to Wal-Mart and buying her a rotisserie chicken because she just _needed_ a chicken.

I could see her, a soldier of determination and raw energy as she gave birth to our daughter.

I could see me cutting the cord and holding...my child. My daughter. And I could practically feel the love swimming out of my wife when I look down at her to see her watching us, knowing we'd never be more complete as we were in that one moment.

I could see Bella standing next to the window in our living room, rocking on her feet while humming to our little girl the same song her own father sang to her when she was just a baby. I could see her patting her diapered bottom, and I could see my daughter snuggling more deeply into her mother's breast while her mother smiled softly with her eyes on her child. Content. Happy. Fulfilled. Loved... and loving.

I couldn't have it. It didn't mean I couldn't dream about it.

Summer had always been something... _someone_... I had avoided on previous visits. Although I never felt the desire to want to eat her, and I wasn't worried I'd hurt her, I could - or would - never hold a child. I had killed those other children when all was lost, and it was simply something I could never or would never forgive myself for.

It didn't matter what kind of a man I was now. I just had no right. I knew Bella felt otherwise. I knew she knew why I couldn't, but there was nothing that could change that.

I would have liked to have held that baby, though. I would have liked it very much, even if she did smell like sour milk and the regurgitated goo that used to be green beans with a splash of oatmeal. Her natural scent was sea water.

I admired the way Bella handled herself. I could tell she was distracting herself from her own memories of her mother as she cooed to Summer and played with her in her arms while she listened. But it would still take its toll on her later when we left. And it would take its toll on her when she figured out I was going to kill Marcy. There was no way to stop it now. There was no way to take this day away and start anew. I only wanted her to understand, and to give her what truths I could manage to give her.

What I didn't know was that she was going to find some truths of her own when she walked into that room... and she would never be the same again.

***B*E*L*L*A***

The room I followed Becky into was bright and airy. The curtains were drawn open; the room had a view of the forest, and beyond that, a part of Santa Fe. The picture window was cranked open just slightly and the wind blowing in made the air lighter.

It didn't help much. As soon as I walked in and saw the woman in the bed, all the air I had in my chest whooshed out, and it was replaced with the feeling of impending death and something electric. It was a tingling sensation, and I felt it on my hands and on my face. It ran down my back, around my ribs, and back up to my chest. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was consuming, and I couldn't catch my breath.

There was a tall dresser against the wall opposite to the bed, and the top of it was covered with individual pictures of what I assumed was family. There were pictures of Becky - both recent and when she was younger - and there were pictures of Summer. There were pictures of another girl, too, who I assumed was Marcy's other daughter, and there were pictures that were probably those of extended family.

In the corner by the window was a small entertainment center with a TV, stereo, and a DVD player. On the opposite side, and sitting in the middle, was the bed. It was a low sitting hospital bed.

She was just...barely there, but her presence was overwhelming. Marcy was just a slight woman - probably no taller than me - but she had lost a considerable amount of weight, and it was easy to see because the bones in her arms stood out. Her skin clung to her loosely, the tendons in her hands protruded, and her face was very gaunt. She was pale, and there were dark rings underneath her eyes.

She had short, dark brown hair that was parted to the side. It was easy to see that when she was healthy, she was probably very pretty, and just shy of being middle-aged. She had a straight nose that was small and curved at the tip, and she had a full set of lips, which were a little blue.

Her breathing wasn't necessarily noisy, but she struggled nonetheless. Her whole torso seemed to be working to just take a breath. She had a nasal cannula supplying her oxygen, and she was underneath several layers of blankets. The head of the bed was adjusted; propping her up, and she also had two pillows - one for her head and one for her back.

Becky had walked to the other side of the bed, and she pulled a chair that had been sitting by the window closer to the bed, but she did not sit down. Marcy looked at her and then at me. She smiled before she looked at Peter.

"Mom, I'm gonna leave. Sure you'll be okay?" Becky asked. Becky's face was full of worry, and she just seemed conflicted overall.

I didn't realize that I had frozen in my spot when I'd walked into the room with Summer. Peter nudged me forward a little and I stepped closer to the bed with Summer in tow. Peter moved to stand by my right side, and he was so close that he was touching me. I could sense that he cast a wary glance at me before he looked back at Marcy.

Her voice was small, but it had a high pitch. She spoke to her daughter, but she kept glancing between Becky and Peter. "I'll be fine. Larry didn't call yet?"

"No," Becky answered. She was checking her mother's IV line, which led from her arm to a morphine dispenser that was on a pole by the bed.

Marcy looked at Peter, and her words stuttered out, "Are you sure you two can stay? Those nurses are always running late on the weekends." She looked at me. Summer turned in my arms to look at her Grandma.

"Yeah, we can stay. It's fine," Peter answered.

Marcy looked back over at Becky, who was putting a new tube of meds into the dispenser. "Go. Get Summer to the doctor. She looks awful."

Becky sat down in the chair and started to put her tennis shoes on. She sighed, but she was clearly worried. "Um, I don't think we'll be too long. Hopefully we can get in and get out, but...um...Bella, Peter, help yourselves to anything you want in the kitchen. There's drinks in the fridge and I made some sugar cookies. My number's on the fridge in case anything happens..."

"In case I croak."

"Jesus, mom." Becky got out of the chair and closed the window. She walked over to me and I held Summer up to help her put a little pink jacket on her. "She controls her pain medication, and she um...she hallucinates a lot. Don't let it freak you out," Becky told me quietly. She took Summer out of my arms. Peter and I moved back a little as Becky leaned down to kiss her mom.

"I won't be long."

"Quit worrying so much. It'll be okay. Come here, Summer. Give grandma a kiss." Becky shifted Summer so Marcy could kiss her. Summer popped her lips open so she could give her Grandma a 'good' kiss, and Marcy smiled. Marcy froze as Becky pulled her away, and a terrible grimace crossed her face and she closed her eyes.

Becky stood up and looked at us, clearly conflicted. Marcy turned her head back and opened her eyes, but she was clearly suffering through a bout of pain. Becky focused on Summer, taking her little hand and making Summer wave. "Say bye bye, Bella and Peter."

"Bye bye," I waved to her, and Summer grinned. Becky picked up a bag that was sitting by the door, and she looked back at her mom. "Love you, mom. Be home soon."

"Yeah, yeah, love you, too. Would you go already?" Marcy said, a little exasperatedly. Becky smiled at us and walked out.

Marcy looked between me and Peter before she finally looked at him and smiled. Peter had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking down, grinning at her.

I heard the door to the house close at the same time that Peter asked, "So, what's up?" He was smiling.

Marcy scoffed at him. "I'm dying, you asshole, that's what's up." She laughed a little.

"Well, I can see that. There's a hell of a lot less of you here then there was last week," Peter said quietly, shaking his head.

"Oh, God. Don't I know it." Marcy swallowed, and she seemed to struggle to do it, so when she finally did, it was hard and she winced in pain. She reached up, pulling her cannula out of her nose and to the side.

She looked back up to Peter. "So, what are you up to today? Who's your girl here?" She smiled at me, and I smiled back. She held out her arm, and Peter took her hand and held it, squeezing it gently.

"This is Bella. Bella, this is Marcy. We're just out, riding around. Your hand is almost as cold as mine," he said. His smile, which had been big, faltered a little.

"Well, that's to be expected. The only difference is, I'm human. Hi, it's nice to meet you." She was looking at me, smiling, and I'm sure I was, too, for a moment before I looked at her a little shocked.

I looked at Peter and he was grinning mischievously.

"Hi. It's...it's nice to me you, too," I stuttered out.

At the same time, Peter asked her, "Well, if I'm not human, what am I?" he asked.

She scoffed at him and looked at me. "Part dog, part pig. You can't clean house worth a damn, and you're standing there like a cocky bastard showing off your conquered conquest. Don't be coming into _my_ house acting like that. Why don't you just lift your leg and take a piss on her if you need to mark your territory? You poor thing." Marcy winked at me.

I couldn't help but laugh nervously, cringe, and turn red all at the same time. My hand flew up unconsciously to cover the hickey on my neck. Peter remained very calm and just grinned at her.

"So, that's just my fault then?" he asked her, pointing to my neck.

"Yep."

"I think you're just looking for something to dig at because you were wrong about me," Peter said. His attitude and the smile he gave her was somewhat victorious.

Marcy looked at him like he grew another head. "Because I was _wrong_ about you?" Her voice was dry, raspy, and cutting out.

"Yeah, about being gay. Obviously, I'm not."

"Obviously, you're not," Marcy said mockingly. "You know, as glad as I am that you're plugging the red river gorge, you need to take into consideration that she's the one who has to walk around with that shit, and hon, maybe you need to show the piggy here where it's proper to graze."

The embarrassment was palpable. I could give a shit about the hickey. While Peter might have had intentions to mark me - not just once, but twice - because he clearly had a possessive and dominant side to him, I had been too simply caught up in the moment - or moments - to worry about what I would carry around for a few days. Still, it was rather embarrassing.

Peter's boisterous laugh was contagious. She really was giving him a lot of shit, and her straightforwardness made me like her right away. It was clear she could give a shit what anyone thought about her. I guess if you only had days, or maybe even hours, to live, why not say what you really think?

Marcy was laughing, Peter was laughing, and I was laughing. Everything went to shit within a matter of just a second or two.

Marcy was laughing from the belly when a coughing fit hit her, and she couldn't get herself through it. Before Peter and I even realized that she was struggling, she jerked her arms out, and her hands flew to the bed rails, grasping on to a couple of the resin-covered handles. She started turning blue, and then purple. Realization hit Peter first. I heard him say her name gently, and then somewhere in the recesses of my mind, and in my own panic, I heard him shout it distantly.

Maybe jumping off a cliff what seemed a long time ago forced me into action. Maybe it was because I watched my own mother struggle for breath. Whatever subconscious reason there was, it entered my mind instantly.

Air. She needed air. She was caught up in a coughing fit and unable to help herself, and she was suffocating.

I was on the other side of the bed before I even knew that I was there. Peter was reacting, as well, because I saw him out of the corner of my eye move and lean down towards her to shout her name again.

I grabbed the cannula that Marcy had pushed off to the side, and I pulled the tubing back over the top of the bed and fixed it under her nose. Peter was already starting to lift her up, and he was shouting at her to breathe. I put my hand underneath her where her back met the bed, and Peter let me push his hand out of the way when I wrapped my other arm around her to lift her up until she was completely sitting up. I placed my hand in the middle of her back and pushed firmly. She had no strength, no strength at all to even sit up, let alone to cough.

I felt it when the burst of air hit her. I felt it when her lungs expanded and she coughed deeply. It was drawn out, but with every pause, she took in air. Marcy was pulling it in as quickly as she could.

Her breaths were labored, and I could feel her lungs rattling. She had the cannula in, but she seemed to be pulling air in through parted blue lips. Her face was gray.

I looked around frantically. Sitting on the floor by the bed were two oxygen tanks, both the same size. The one on the left had a face mask hanging around it haphazardly, and its tubing was already attached.

"Hold her..." I let go of Marcy and grabbed the mask. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but she needed more air. I knew enough that she'd get more through the mask. I twisted the main valve on top, cracking it open. There was a hiss, but there was no air coming through the mask. There were two pressure gauges attached to the tank, and while I saw the needle move up on one, the other stayed still. There was another valve close to where the tubing was attached to the regulator, and I twisted it until the needle on the second gauge shot all the way to the top.

I heard a loud hiss, and I could feel the air moving through the mask. Marcy was looking at me with wide eyes when I turned back towards her. I pulled the tubing and the mask over the top of the bed and over her. I moved the cannula off of her and put the mask over her nose and mouth.

She reached up with her hand to grab it, laying her hand over mine. She took in larger breaths while looking at me, and then she shifted her head slowly to look at Peter.

"Marcy," I heard Peter say.

She waved him off, unable to talk. I looked at him, and then I felt him. His hand was just below mine on her back. I hadn't noticed that I had put it there again. The alarm was evident in his face. And in his dark eyes. Black. They were black. They were neither angry, nor were they...hungry. They were frightened.

We sat there, looking back and forth at each other as we watched Marcy's color come back to her. Not that she had any. It was quiet, except for the loud hiss coming from the O2 tank. I was sure Peter was supporting most of her weight, but she felt so light. So small and frail. She was slumping in our hands, and she shifted just enough that I could tell she wanted to lay back.

We both helped her as she moved back against the pillows. The top one had fallen to Peter's side and he grabbed it, placing it underneath her head. Marcy was looking at me, her eyes not so wide now, but there was alarm in them. Or maybe it was fear.

She was breathing deeply, and quickly, and I felt her try and pull my hand away with the mask from her face. I tentatively removed it, watching her.

"Take it..." she said. "Turn that thing..." She breathed deeply, her voice was nearly gone. "Turn that thing off before it explodes." I pulled it back, looking between the O2 tank and her as I did so. "Tighten the valve on top," she said. Her voice was so small.

Peter moved. He walked over and leaned over me, tightening the valve on top, and then he opened a pin on the other side of the contraption, releasing a gush of air. At the same time, Marcy started pulling on the cannula, and I helped her to maneuver it back underneath her nose.

She took deep breaths as I watched her, and Peter was making sure the air that had been trapped inside the regulator was all bled out, I guess. She spoke to him slowly, in between breaths. "Peter, pull that...chair up and let Bella sit. Then go get her something to drink and grab her a couple of cookies. She's green... Take my cup with you. I need warm water."

Peter did as she asked. I felt the chair hit the back of my legs and he gently pushed me down to sit. I _felt_ green. My stomach felt like it had dropped down to my goddamn toes. My heart was somewhere in my fucking stomach, and it was pounding. My ears were ringing a little, and I noticed I was breathing a little heavily... and quickly.

Peter moved quickly to the other side of the bed and grabbed a cup with a stick in it off a little table pushed up against the wall. "You want warm water?" he asked, his voice a little stressed.

She breathed in deeply. "Yes. I can't take the cold anymore. Hurts my teeth." Marcy smiled at me. I just looked at her. I saw Peter walk out of the room quickly, heading towards the kitchen.

She started to pull the covers back up with one of her hands. That's when I noticed they had bunched up around her waist, and she was partially laying on the blankets and the sheets. I helped her get them out from underneath her and straightened out. She was wearing a pink nightgown that buttoned up the front, and her collarbones and neck were exposed.

I remembered Peter telling me she'd had a double mastectomy when the cancer was found in her breasts. Her gown was loose. It hung off her frame, and she didn't...she didn't have any breasts. We pulled the blankets up and I tucked them underneath her arms. She had dropped the button that gave her the morphine, and it was hanging down the side of the bed. I pulled it up, feeling her grab for it. My eyes, however, were glued to the top of her chest and the right side of her neck.

Her skin was extremely discolored. It looked deeply bruised, but the coloring was off. It looked very pliant. Mushy and uneven. It started somewhere underneath her gown and it moved up and along the side of her neck, all the way up to her ear.

"That's cancer." She grimaced, but I think it was because she was hurting. She smiled a little. "Pretty gross, huh?" I nodded at her a little and then looked away and down to her hand that was grasping her button. I looked over at the machine holding her morphine. She hadn't pushed the button, or at least I hadn't noticed.

"Are you hurting?" I asked. It was a stupid question. Of course, she was hurting.

She smiled a little. She looked so weak. Tired even. She closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. "I've gotten used to it." She opened her eyes and looked at me. "I thought I was finally checking out. Permanently."

Marcy groaned a little, closing her eyes again. "Where did you...where did you learn to do that?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She opened her eyes. "That thing you did with my back. It helps. Becky does it, too."

"I watched a nurse help my mom," I answered.

Of course, I remembered. It was before she went on the ventilator. Her muscles, her back, her lungs... they were all exhausted. Sore, and unable to fucking cough. It didn't really do anything, it was _'an aide to give her a feeling of physical support to get through it,'_ she had said. The nurse who would later date Phil. Sometimes it helped, other times it didn't.

Peter came walking back into the room. I glanced at him as he sat a glass full of ice water and a couple of cookies on a napkin on the table.

Marcy paid him no attention. Instead she just looked at me. "What was it?" she asked.

Looking at her, I could tell she understood.

"Pneumonia. Her heart failed," I answered, smiling at her. She nodded at me and smiled gently. She let go of her switch and patted my hand, which rested on the lowered rail.

Peter looked at us both, glancing between us. He looked severe. Almost angry, even. Marcy looked at him and her brow furrowed. Peter had put in another pair of contacts. It was obvious to me that maybe...just maybe...she really knew he _wasn't_ human. He had her cup in his hand, and he was playing with the stick inside.

"Squeeze it out along the side," she told him. Her voice was nearly gone. I watched Peter. He was doing as she asked. He popped the stick out, and her hand moved up to grab it, but Peter wouldn't let her have it.

He leaned down close to her to move it towards her lips. She dropped her hand away as he rubbed the spongy tip on the stick along her lips. She smiled and giggled at him a little underneath her breath. Peter was watching her, smiling at her... flirting even.

I loved him even more in that moment.

She lifted her hand and grabbed the stick from him, popped her lips open, and moved the tip inside and along her cheek.

"Thank you," she said. Peter smiled at her and brushed his finger across the tip of her nose. He grabbed the tall glass of water and the cookies with the napkin off the table and walked over to me.

He handed me the glass and the cookies. He grasped the back of my neck and squeezed it gently. "You okay?" he asked. I looked away from Marcy and up at him, and I nodded before I turned my eyes back to her. I held on to the cookies, but I took a sip of water. Then another.

I ended up gulping down half the glass.

"We're fine," Marcy said, looking at him a little mischievously. She could talk pretty good with a stick in her mouth. She sucked on it gently and then moved it over to the other side. I'm sure it wasn't quenching her thirst, and the relief it gave from having dry mouth was minimal.

Peter kept his hands on my neck, and he began rubbing it along with my shoulders. "We're _fine_," he said condescendingly, lowly and quietly. "_She_'s fine. _You_'re dying. The only question is how you finally check out."

Marcy looked at him. She said nothing for a moment as she sucked on her stick. Her hand moved up slowly to pull it out of her mouth. She looked at him almost pitifully. She swallowed and grimaced a little. Her right hand had found her button again, but she still didn't push it.

"I'm scared." She swallowed again. Hard. She took a few breaths. Her eyes, which were blue, were getting glassy. "I don't want Becky to see me die like that. But that's...that's what's gonna happen, I think. I'm gonna run out of air and it'll hurt more and...ohh..." She swallowed. Her voice shook a little with her words. "It just really sucks."

"Yes, it does suck," Peter said quietly, but hard. I looked up at him. He was still looking severe, angry even, but I saw worry there too.

Marcy took some deep breaths. As deep as she _could_. She had closed her eyes to quell the need to break down and cry. When she opened them again, she looked back up at Peter. "Will you take me to the Caribbean? Let me swim with the fishies?"

The phone rang as Peter answered her. "Yeah, I'll take you there if that's what you really want. But you've lived on this mountain nearly your whole damn life. Why the change?"

Marcy looked out into the hall. "Dammit. Becky must have left it in the kitchen. Can you go get it?" she asked. She grimaced something awful, and groaned out. Her whole upper body winced, and I heard her push the button.

Peter was already walking towards the doorway, watching her as she settled. "Yep." It wasn't a full second before I heard him answer it, and I knew he had run to the kitchen.

Marcy had her eyes closed, but she opened them. There was a grimace still on her face, and she was riding out a wave of excruciating pain. "Why the Caribbean?" I asked, trying to get her mind off of it.

She tried to answer through the pain. I watched her click the button again, and she gave up momentarily trying to talk.

Peter walked back into the bedroom, and I looked at him. He was still on the phone and he looked at me. His face was forlorn. Severe. He stayed over on the other side of the bed.

"Okay," he paused, as whoever was on the other line said something. "Okay." He pushed the button on the cordless receiver and sat it on the table.

"That was the nurse who's coming over. She just left a client's house. She'll be here in thirty minutes," he said to Marcy as he glanced at me.

Marcy groaned a little. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "Which one is it?" she asked.

Peter answered, "Beth?"

"Bitch."

"Don't like her?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?" Peter asked. Marcy had her eyes closed again.

"She always brings over Chinese food and eats in front of me every time she's here," Marcy answered.

"Well, what's wrong with that?" Peter asked, chuckling a little. He watched her like she was...unique. And she was.

"She talks with her mouth full and it smells _really good_," Marcy said.

"God, what a bitch," I said. I agreed. I thought that was cruel. Marcy obviously couldn't eat, and she obviously loved Chinese. Peter, who had seemed to relax a little, looked at me with eyebrows raised, grinning. I smiled at him, I think.

Marcy smiled at me. "Exactly." She pointed down towards my hand. "Eat. You're still pale."

I tore one of the cookies apart, popping the half into my mouth to appease her. My gut was still somewhere unidentifiable. I did notice the taste, however, and it was really good.

"Did you have any?" she asked Peter.

"I'm not hungry. I'll take some home," he answered. I looked at him and offered him my other cookie with my hand. He glared for a moment at me.

Marcy looked over at me. She was wincing a little. "That man you love so much is _not_ human. Plenty of times I've been in his house and I've snooped through his shit." She laughed, and I laughed with her.

"He doesn't eat," she said, shaking her head. "There was never any garbage, never any food left over in the sink. And everything in the fridge was always brand new. Unopened. What _was_ there, anyway. He thinks I'm an idiot."

She shook her head again and reached out to grab my hand. "The toilet was never dirty."

I stifled a grin and looked over at Peter, who had pulled the other chair closer to the other side of the bed and sat down. I couldn't see his legs, but he had stretched them out in front of him and he had his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't keep his grin contained, and he said nothing as he watched her.

"What do you think he is?" I asked.

She huffed. "You tell me." Marcy grimaced and closed her eyes for a moment. She hit her button. Twice. I heard the machine pump once.

Marcy looked at me again. She really was waiting for an answer. I looked over at Peter, who was just watching us. He was grinning like he knew his secret was out, but he wasn't worried. And really, there wasn't anything _to_ worry about. Marcy was dying and heavily medicated.

I shrugged my shoulders at her. "Vampire."

She snickered a little. Her voice was starting to sound lighter and lighter. "Figures. Where are his fangs, then?"

I looked over at Peter, who was watching me and smiling a little. "Show her your fangs," I told him.

Marcy looked over at him, a little heavy lidded. Peter's smile was...toothy. He ran his tongue over the bottom of his teeth and chomped down hard. The sound was...well, it was a little too much.

The truth is, I found it kind of fucking frightening.

Marcy laughed at him a little. "Whatever. A bona fide blood-sucking pig who never eats. It...It would explain why...why you nearly yak whenever you ate my cookies." She looked at me. "I made good cookies. He can't act worth a...shit." Marcy closed her eyes and she shook her head. "Oh, shut up," she said.

I glanced at Peter, who looked at her and then at me, just as confused as I was.

"Whatever," she said. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Marcy, who you talking to?" Peter asked.

She looked over at him. She sighed a little, and then motioned behind her. "Behind my bed. They won't shut up."

Peter and I both looked at her, and then at each other. He raised his eyebrows quickly and looked back at Marcy. It was evident she was hallucinating.

"Go to sleep, Marcy. You're tired," he told her.

She looked over at him. "No, I don't want to. So, you'll take me to the Caribbean?" she asked.

Peter nodded exaggeratedly. "Yes, I'll take you to the Caribbean," he said distinctly and slowly. Marcy smiled at him, and then she looked over at me. She looked like she was having a hard time focusing. She actually looked over my shoulder and smiled. I felt a burst of air hit my neck from the window, and I could feel my skin pricking.

When she finally found my eyes, she said, "See, he really does like me. He just won't admit it. He...he told me once that I reminded him of...somebody. Who...was it?" she asked. Marcy hit her button again. She was experiencing another bout of pain.

Peter grinned for a moment, but then his face fell just a little as he looked at her. "My sister, Pauline," he said, reminding her. I looked at him, and he looked at me, shrugging a little, and then he lifted his hand and waved it in a 'so so' manner. Then he looked down.

It explained some if not all of his attachment to Marcy.

Just then, there was a ring. A doorbell. Peter looked out into the hallway, sighing in irritation. Marcy, who had closed her eyes, snapped them wide open. She shifted and said, "Oh, shit."

"What?" Peter said, moving to stand up.

"I bet it's the kid from down the street. Becky called him yesterday to see if he'd mow the lawn. He was supposed to be here today. I think she forgot," she said. Marcy coughed a little, and she breathed in a short, deep breath.

"I'll go talk to him," Peter said.

"Um...you'll probably have to pay him," Marcy looked around, "I don't know where my..."

"Don't worry about it," Peter said, walking out of the room.

Marcy closed her eyes. She truly did need to go to sleep, but she looked like she was fighting it. Her brow was extremely furrowed. I heard Peter open the door and greet whoever was there. He stepped outside, and I heard the door shut.

I was looking out the doorway when she talked again. "I know... Shut up," she said.

I looked at her. She stayed quiet for a moment. I briefly thought she had finally passed out.

Her eyes were still closed, and she sighed deeply. "She does. A lot," she said.

"Marcy?" I said.

Marcy opened her eyes and looked at me. But she wasn't really looking at me. She was having a hard time focusing. She was blinking constantly, and she was looking up and over my shoulder, to the left and to the right.

She finally met my eyes and smiled. "She's very pretty," she said quietly. Her muscles relaxed, and she looked as if she wasn't experiencing any pain at the moment. Even her breathing seemed to quiet a little, though she was still taking quick breaths.

I looked at her and smiled. She was hallucinating. "Who's very pretty?" I asked.

She lifted her hand a little, pointing above me. "The lady. She's you."

I knew I shouldn't encourage her hallucination, so I stayed quiet.

"She has your face, but not your eyes. Who is she?" she asked.

"I don't know," I answered. "What is she doing?" I asked. She might have been hallucinating, but it didn't mean I wasn't curious.

Marcy blinked, and her eyes moved to somewhere on my left. "I knowww..." she said.

Marcy looked back down to me, and then to my right. "She said she misses you. Can't you see her?" she asked.

I looked over my shoulder, just to humor her. Plus, maybe she would realize the medication was affecting her if I told her no one was there. "No, I can't. There's no one there," I said.

"They're both standing right there." She pointed, her hand waving. "They won't shut up," she said, irritated.

I sighed. I could hear Peter's muffled voice, so I knew he was on the porch. I wished he was there. I was uneasy. Not because I was alone with Marcy, but because he seemed to have a rapport with her, and maybe he could have snapped her out of this delusion she seemed to be stuck in.

"Renee says you just get prettier and prettier. She says she wishes she had never cut her hair."

It took a moment before it really registered, and then my heart dropped out of my chest.

In that instant, another breeze floated into the room and it was just as icy as the last.

But the air... It seemed to disappear _with_ the breeze. I couldn't breathe.

Time seemed to stop... or it was just taken away and it didn't exist at all. My mind seemed to fog up, but I could think, I could see, I could feel.

There was a noise in my ears and it almost made them feel like they were full of water, yet I could still hear.

My heart clenched when she'd said my mother's name.

I reasoned with myself. I told myself that Peter must have told her at some point. But her name had never come up.

_'...she wishes she had never cut her hair.'_ She had said. And I never told Peter - I never told _anyone_ - that my mom had always wished she had never cut her hair so many years ago.

Marcy was looking at me and smiling with heavy-lidded eyes. I swallowed hard, trying to pop my ears. "What...did you say?" The heaviness in my chest made it hard to speak.

Marcy smiled wider, and her eyes were soft. "It's okay." She swallowed. "It's okay. She misses you, too."

And then I felt it. Someone laid their hand on my right shoulder and rubbed the length of my arm in a touch of comfort. I could feel the hand and the fingers that wrapped around the curve of my arm. I looked.

There was no one there.

I was out of my seat and against the back wall, standing by the dresser. I couldn't breathe. Marcy's whole body spasmed, and I watched as another excruciating burst of pain consumed her entire frame. She cried out briefly, and she hit her button. I was frozen, unable to move, watching her as she looked at me desperately. A series of tremors racked through her, and her entire face was frozen in a look of sheer agony. She started to cry.

All the while, there were whispers in my ears. _Both_ of them. So quiet, I could not hear the words.

They spoke fast. It felt like a ton of weight was sitting on my chest and freezing me to the spot where I stood. Electricity... cold electric currents were running throughout my body. I could feel...everything. Every spot on my body tingled with the sensation.

It was insane. It was impossible. I could think of nothing, _nothing_, but what I was feeling. What I was _hearing_.

And then I felt it again. A touch. A hand placed on my shoulder, where it stayed. I couldn't move my head to look to see who was there. I didn't have to. I was sidled up against the wall, the dresser right next to me. There would be nothing to see. I could only feel.

I could only listen as one voice stood out amongst the whispering. A whisper whose voice I've heard so many times during my life that even though I hadn't heard it recently, its dialect... its tone... _her voice_ was easily recognizable.

Her words were distinct and clear.

"_Help him, help her. Help her, Bella."_

And then it was gone. All of it. The cold, the electricity, the sound in my ears, all of it. And with it, a piece of my heart.

"Motherfucker."

The air was back. My heart was pounding. I felt a breeze caress my face, and I looked over at the window.

It was closed. Becky. Becky had closed it before she left.

I heard a whimper, and I looked over at Marcy. She was asleep. There was nothing but agony showing on her face. The pain was so bad that she couldn't even sleep without feeling something.

I didn't realize I had moved. I had taken a step forward. I was physically in shock - numb almost. But I wasn't numb enough to stop thinking. My mind felt clear. So clear, in fact, it was easy to understand the meaning behind the words that I had heard.

Words which belonged to my mother.

"_Help him, help her. Help her, Bella." _

With those words alone, a plethora of memories flooded into the front of my mind. This morning's conversation about faith and divinity. I remembered what I told Peter. I remembered because I believed it. It was the only truth I knew up until that point. _'I can only accept what I've seen or experienced for myself'. _

I didn't see my mother. I didn't see her.

I felt her.

I _heard_ her.

To hear is to _see_. And I heard her.

_'You're playing God.'_

_'Maybe somebody has to, Bella.'_

Maybe he was right.

_'What did you mean earlier when you said that killing...those who are not good is only half of it?'_

_'You're about to meet a sliver of the other half. Come on.' _

_'She's fine. You're dying. The only question is how you finally check out.'_

_'I'm scared. I don't want Becky to see me die like that. But that's...that's what's gonna happen, I think. I'm gonna run out of air and it'll hurt more and...ohh...'_

_'Help him, help her. Help her, Bella.'_

"Bella."

I hadn't noticed that he'd walked back into the room. I hadn't noticed him come and stand directly in front of me.

I looked at him with crystal clear clarity. I could feel the hot tears staining my face. I could feel my heart and my blood racing out of control. I was scared. I was frightened to death. Everything was happening so rapidly, and everything was changing so quickly, that it was the only way I _could_ feel. The only way. But it wasn't over. There were things that needed to be done. There were things I needed to accept. I could only accept one thing at that point.

He looked really worried. "You haven't listened to a word I've said. What happened?"

I didn't answer him. I looked at Marcy. Her torso was rising with great effort with every struggling breath. Her face was still contorted in agony as she slept. I looked up at Peter. He was still looking at me worriedly, and he reached up with his hand and wiped his thumb across my cheek.

"What happened?" he asked again, whispering.

"Nothing," I answered. I swallowed hard and I looked directly into his eyes, steeling my face. "Peter."

"What?"

"You're going to kill her," I said with finality. "That's...that's what you meant. She's a sliver of the other half. She's a sliver of the good who shouldn't suffer. She _shouldn't_ suffer. That's what you meant. You meant _her_. You're going to kill her."

He had straightened to stand tall as I made my statement. He looked at me a little shocked. He swallowed hard, and his face was stoic. "Yes."

I looked at him. It was in his eyes. He had every intention of killing her. It was all so clear. She wanted to die. She needed to die. She didn't want to die while her daughter looked on. She didn't want to suffocate. She needed help. He would help her.

I guess I wavered on my feet a little because Peter's arms sought purchase at my waist, holding me steady. I grabbed his face with my hands and I looked him in the eyes.

"Okay," I nodded, hot tears slipping down my face. "Okay. Do it. Go ahead," I said.

He froze. It was short lived.

Peter removed his hands from my waist and grabbed me by my upper arms. I couldn't get my bearings back right away. I noticed we were now just outside the door to Marcy's room. He was gripping me hard, holding me up against him.

"What did you say?" He asked with severity, exhaling out of his nose. His lips were tight.

"Go ahead. Do it. Go ahead and kill her. She's suffering. Oh, God, she's suffering _so_ much." I choked up.

He looked mad. Shocked, but mad mostly. "What the fuck, Bella?! What the hell happened?" he asked.

I got mad. I shook my head at him frantically. "Nothing, Goddammit! Nothing happened! I just... She's suffering. She shouldn't have... She shouldn't have to. Help her. Help her die. And let go of me! You're hurting me..." My arms were starting to hurt where he was gripping them, and I could feel my heartbeat in my left. Peter released me, but he was still looking at me hard. Almost critically. I tried to swallow the thickness inside my throat, but it did no good.

"Bullshit, Bella. I come into the room and you're standing there shaking and looking like something scared the living shit out of you and you're gonna tell me nothing happened?! Bullshit. _Something_ happened in there and you're gonna tell me what the fuck it was," he whispered heatedly.

I hit him. I slapped his face, and my fists struck him in the chest, over and over. I knew I was hysterical. I knew I was losing it. I knew it was a desperate situation. I knew everything; _everything, _I ever thought or believed in had changed in an instant, and I just couldn't deal with it. The only thing I _could_ deal with was what was the right thing to do. It _was_ the right thing to do.

I didn't know why I couldn't tell him. Maybe it was because I hadn't figured it out myself. I was confused. I was full of belief and disbelief all at the same time. The only clear thing to me at that moment was that he needed to help her. And he...he needed to feed. It was for both of them. Where he could end her suffering, she could sustain him so he could exist.

I was hitting his chest, and Peter grabbed my wrists firmly, stopping me from hitting him. At the same time, he pushed me up against the wall, pinning me there. "God...dammit, Peter! Nothing happened! Everything happened! She's suffering. She's...fucking...dying!"

I lost it. I started crying hard, and I put my head against his chest. He let go of my wrists and I grabbed his shirt as I made myself stop. It was important. I needed to stop.

I looked up at him through hazy eyes, and I tried to talk to him calmly. He just stared at me with worry and aggravation. "Look...you said it yourself. She's dying. The only question is how she checks out. But it's not just _how_. It's _when_. She's in pain...she's in _agony_. Don't let her suffer another minute with that. She doesn't deserve to worry another second about suffocating in front of her daughter. She's ready _now_. Help her, Peter. _Help_ her."

Peter stood completely still, and he looked into my eyes quietly for a moment. Searching for something. He shook his head. "She _is_ ready. But it'll wait for tonight," he said.

"Why?!" I pleaded. "Why not do it now?"

"Because, Bella. She should have one more night with her daughter. There's no..."

"To do what!? Say goodbye?" I asked. "They've already done it."

"You don't know that," he bit out, a little too loudy. Marcy moaned inside her room.

"Yes, I do! Yes, _you_ do! Peter...Peter...she's suffering. They _both_ are. I haven't known these women thirty minutes, but I know...I _know_ they are. If that was _my_ mom in there, I wouldn't be able to take it."

Peter's eyes flashed. "That's the point, Bella. She _isn't_ your mom."

No, she wasn't.

I dropped my arms to my sides. Peter kept me pinned up against the wall. There was nothing I could say to that. She _wasn't_ my mom, and I knew I had no right to ask this. To demand it. I had no right to ask him to do it, even if it was in his scheme of things. I knew I was crazy, and that I had turned into a raving lunatic. I now knew the afterlife existed after all, in some way.

It was out there.

I was asking him to kill someone. I was asking him to commit murder because _I_ couldn't stand to see her suffer. And what right did I have? What right did I have to demand it?

_'You're playing God.'_

_'Maybe somebody has to, Bella.'_

I looked up at Peter, and I think I sneered at him. "You son of a bitch. You never should have brought me here."

He flinched like I had slapped him.

"I know," he whispered.

"But you _did_. You wanted my approval. You wanted my acceptance. Well, _you got it_. But only the _great Peter Fischer_ can decide who dies and when." I held my hands up and wiggled my fingers for dramatic effect as I watched my statement slam into him.

"I mean, _somebody_ has to play God. Right, Peter? Or do I just not get it because I'm just young, and stupid, and human..."

"Shut up. Right now." His hard and concise tone told me I should. The way his body shook against me told me I should. I wasn't afraid of him. I wasn't afraid he would hurt me physically. I was more afraid of him on an emotional level because of the things he has said to me that have had the ability to strike a chord, or pull on my heart.

We stood there silently for a moment. I had averted my eyes when I saw his grow angry, and I stared at his chest. The never ending tears streamed down my face. Both of us were breathing heavily. His proximity was intimidating enough without the knowledge that he was regarding me with anger in that moment. It was tension. I was emotionally raw and sexually in need of some release. How fucked up was that?

He sighed long and heavy as he moved one of his hands off the wall to grab my chin and lift it so I would look at him. He wasn't looking at me with anger anymore. His face had softened, but his eyes were coal black. "You made your point," he whispered.

I stood still as he cupped my cheeks and wiped away my tears. "Peter...listen to me. Please? Better yet, look at her. She can't...she can't even sleep soundly without feeling so much...so much pain. Becky...Becky is gone. The nurse isn't here yet. You can...do it now. Do it now so you don't have to come back tonight. Do it now so you won't leave me when I'm going to need you the most. Do it now so she can just...die in her sleep. Quietly. Peacefully. The way someone like her _should_ die. Don't leave it to chance that she could die before you come back. That's not fair to her."

He sighed resignedly and leaned down, placing his forehead on mine. His eyes were closed. I cupped his cheeks and kissed him gently, silently begging him to say yes. To play God. Because right now Marcy needed him the most.

And as if to say that she agreed, and to help sway his decision, Marcy whimpered out in her sleep. Peter pulled back, and his lips twisted in a grimace as he peeked into the room. I kept myself attached to him as he took a step forward into the doorway, looking at her. Marcy was still sleeping with an awful grimace on her face.

Peter sighed again, and he grabbed my shoulders to push me away from him. He slid his hands around my head and kissed my forehead. "Go into the living room. Wait for me there," he said. He let go of me and he walked into the bedroom.

I stood there.

Peter walked slowly over to the window with his head down. He quietly pulled the cord to shut the blinds. I heard a lawnmower coming from somewhere outside, towards the front of the house.

I walked a little further into the room. Peter turned away from the window and looked at me.

"Bella."

"I want to stay."

He was in front of me instantly. "No," he said firmly.

"Yes. If you want me...if you want me to accept this, to take you for what you are, then you have to let me stay, Peter. It's too late. It's too late to scream and run away," I pleaded. It was. It was much too late.

"Oh, God," he said. Peter's eyes were coal black...and so full of dread and desperation.

"Please," I whispered.

He looked at me with a little indifference, grabbed my head with both of his hands, and kissed me firmly. When he pulled back, he swallowed hard and nodded. He walked over to the bedroom door slowly, and he closed it quietly, turning the lock.

I was afraid. Scared to death. But there would be no turning back. There would be no admitting it. He probably already knew it.

Peter walked back over to me, gauging me silently. He grabbed my hand and held it tightly in his. "I want you to go to the other side of the bed, and I want you to hold her hand. Find her pulse. Listen to it. Feel it. Don't let go, and do not move. I want you to breath in and out of your mouth. Do you understand?" he asked.

I nodded, unable to swallow the thickness that consumed my throat. "Yes."

His face softened. "It will be quick... But you will see."

I nodded at him frantically. "Yes."

Peter brought his left hand up and stroked my cheek as he looked at me with a little dread. He let go of my hand and urged me forward. I went to the other side of the bed, like he said.

The button for her morphine was still gripped in her hand, and I removed it. Marcy moaned a little in her sleep. Her face was just as twisted as before.

Peter was in the corner of my vision, and he lowered the bed rail down the rest of the way. I slid both my hands over hers, and I ran my right index and middle fingers along her wrist until I felt her pulse. It was strong. Vital.

Peter sat down on the edge of the bed. He watched her. He was perfectly still. He wasn't even breathing.

His head turned towards me a little bit. "Don't let go."

"I won't."

It was in those few seconds before he moved on her that I waited... I waited for the cold to come. I waited to feel the liquid feeling in my ears. I waited for the electricity to consume my body. I waited. Waited for a sign that this was wrong and that he shouldn't be doing this. That _I_ shouldn't be doing this.

I was conflicted. I was scared and frightened, angry and sad, and just all together plain fucked up. I didn't want to see this with such...clarity. _Nobody_ should see this.

But no sign, no feeling, no voice showed itself. To hear and to feel is to see.

Time seemed immeasurable when he finally took a breath and exhaled deeply. He lifted his hand and wiped away some of the hair that was matted down on her forehead. I was standing directly on the opposite side of him. Peter's eyes stayed directly on her as he moved some of the tubing from her cannula away from her neck.

I watched his eyes... what I could see of them. I was sure I saw them darken even more, if that was possible.

He leaned forward, and as lightly and as gently as possible, he kissed her forehead. Marcy sighed in her sleep. Peter pulled back just slightly. His left hand moved forward and wrapped behind the back of her neck. He held it still.

He moved quickly. Precisely. He tilted her neck at the same time that he bit into her artery. Instantaneous. It would have been too late even if I had wanted to stop him.

I jumped, but I held my ground. I felt her flinch. I heard her cry out briefly. I saw her eyes flutter. I watched him draw her in. His back... his torso... expanded with one long pull.

And then another. And another. And another.

Her pulse fluttered beneath my fingers.

Another pull. And then another. And another.

I studied everything; the way his bottom lip rested against her skin; the way his back contracted when he pulled again; the way his thumb stroked the side of her head; the low, resounding, content purr I heard coming from Peter; the way Marcy's body, so full of tension and pain, relaxed. You could see the burden lift away from her.

I heard the last breath she took, and I listened to it leave her body. She was dead before she could even wake up.

I watched him seal her wound with his tongue. Her skin closed almost instantaneously; leaving behind a mark - a crescent - forever embossed on her body. Whatever color she'd had left in her skin faded almost as quickly as her life left her.

That was the hard part. That was the ugly part. Because then her body was just a disease-consumed shell that couldn't sustain the heart of her. Her soul. Her body was foreign, just like my mother's was when she'd passed away. It wasn't _her_ anymore.

He laid her down gently, and I guess he said the only thing he could say.

"Thank you."

I barely remember him prying my hands away from hers.


	15. Chapter 14 Phish Food

Chapter 14. PATWAP Part V: Phish Food

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

"Bella."

"What."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't an answer. It was just a numb response. I guess the good thing was that she finally looked at me.

It was not the fucking time to be taking a trip on the cuckoo train. If she wanted to borrow my ticket, she could; I had the best seat in the front car. I was sure, however, that she had experienced a healthy dose of reality, and maybe - just fucking maybe - some DFUI.

I was livid.

I was happy.

I was..._fucked up_...beyond all recognition.

I was pissed.

After everything was said, and more importantly, done, I'd had to physically remove her from the bedroom because she just wouldn't move. She had been gripping Marcy's wrist like I'd told her to, and when I finally pried her hands away, they automatically flew to the bedside rail.

It was almost as if she didn't want to leave. And the look on her face - and in her eyes - was like she was waiting for something. It was just a confirmation of my suspicions.

I didn't think she even realized she had been moved, or that she was now sitting on the sofa. I had knelt down before her and stared at her while trying to elicit a response; at the same time, I called Becky. She had just walked into the pharmacy two miles away to pick up Summer's antibiotics.

It was a conversation I didn't want to have. It was a conversation that, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have had to of had. It was Becky, and she was taken off guard because of my call alone.

She just knew. Whether it was from the tone of my voice or my words to her to take care of business and then come home, she just knew. Maybe it was the subdued silence on my end that clued her in. I didn't even have to say the words.

"I need you," I said.

Bella's heart, which had beat in tune with Marcy's when I was feeding from her - when I was _killing_ her - slowed a little. She breathed in.

A car pulled into the driveway. That little asshole was still mowing out front. Bella searched my eyes for a moment with hers - bloodshot and tear-stained, yet full of such depth unlike anything I had ever seen before.

Knowledge. But she was conflicted.

"Okay," she said, nodding a little. I didn't know if she understood my request. I needed her on so many levels right then, and one of them was I needed _her _to be level.

"Marcy's nurse is here. She just pulled up. Becky will be home soon. I need you to take care of Summer."

She breathed out, her face finally faltering. The numbness was wearing off, and she looked scared out of her fucking mind. "Don't leave me. Don't leave me alone," she said thickly, her eyes tearing up.

Her words only validated what I believed to be true.

There wasn't a chance in hell I was going to leave her alone. And there wasn't a chance in hell I was even going to ask her again what this was all about.

"Shhh, I won't. I promise." I held her face and wiped away her tears as I kissed her. She started to shake, but she was back. She was aware. She took strength - from what, I didn't know. She was playing the part I needed her to play, and she didn't even know it.

I kissed her firmly and stood up to open the door.

The nurse was out of her car, pulling out a tote bag...and a plastic bag.

Full of take-out. Chinese.

That fucking shit was gonna be pitched into the sky. Hopefully, it would land on that little sack of shit who charged me twenty-five instead of twenty for having to pick up that mound of dog shit on Marcy and Becky's walk. Plus, the little fucker swiped me for another ten when I asked him to water Marcy's lawn and prune her garden.

And all the while I had been clueless to what was happening around me.

To what was happening in that room.

A divine deflection.

_Charlotte_.

To what was happening to Bella - whatever it was. But something _had_ happened. I could see it in her face. I could see it in her _eyes_.

Shock.

Fear.

Belief. _Profound_ belief. Anger. Fire. Determination. Acceptance. Love. Loss...

It had all seeped from her and it had filled the room.

It had taken my breath away when I saw her standing there. Alone. For a moment there, she had looked like she had lost the best part of her. She had looked so alone. It was a look I had seen before. It was the look she wore the day her mother died.

That room...that place that reeked of death...was just a little colder than when I'd left it.

That room was full of life - _precious life_ - just not what you could see with your eyes. And someone's life was hanging in the balance between life and death.

No one good - no one whole - should ever fear death, but I swore to God and I swore to Charlotte that if taking my life meant that Bella could live quietly the rest of hers, I would gladly spend eternity in hell. And for that reason alone, I feared it.

Bella didn't have to worry. She wasn't the only one losing it, I was well on my way. She was just discovering things, or coming to realizations. And it strengthened the decisions I made.

I had realized my mistake before we even walked into this house. I had realized that I was forcing Bella into our future, but she was the one who was now paying the price for my error - or errors. For all of it.

It just wasn't fair...for either one of us.

_I hate whatever you did to her. I hate what you've done to me. I can't love you for this. I can't love you at all anymore. _

The next hour, two minutes, and thirty-six seconds passed by as slowly as fucking possible.

The explanation for Marcy's death was simple, but difficult all the same. The attack that had consumed her - and for a few moments, her ability to breathe - had left very little proof; but given her condition and deterioration with what seemed like every passing moment, it was all that was needed.

No one would question it except the mortician when he drained the blood from her body. Morticians lived with the strange every day; they already knew something wasn't sitting right in the world. I knew that much. But I didn't completely drain her. I drained her just enough to kill her.

Although, the thought of doing so had been there because the taste of her blood reminded me of a great fucking cookie - sweet, pure, and satisfying. It was easy enough to look past what the cancer and meds had done to her blood because of who she was and how she looked at life.

It didn't _really_ taste like a cookie, but living this existence had taught me to channel it into things I missed the most; things I could have or would have craved or desired during certain moments of my life. Most of the time, it was just blood; thick and heady, and quenching the fire that forever raged, if only for a little while.

Other times it was thinking of it like a good shot of whiskey. Or a cold beer.

Or a cookie...

Marcy had blown a few blood vessels in her eyes. When Bella had turned on the O2 tank that fed her mask, she had inadvertently killed a good quarter of the tank's contents. I made sure to rearrange the mask as if it had been used, which it had been.

The gauge would show proof. That was, if it was even monitored.

But the lie still weighed heavily.

The nurse, Beth, was a gal in her thirties. I told her what Marcy had experienced in her and Becky's absence. To say she was alarmed was an understatement. I told her that Marcy had lost consciousness and that we thought her heart failed. She immediately flew back to Marcy's room, throwing her bags down by the front door, and I followed.

Bella, who had gained Beth's attention for only a moment, sprang to her feet and followed too. She had her arms folded across her chest and she stayed in the hallway. Beth glanced at her, but Bella didn't even have to say a word.

_I_ answered Beth's questions. _I_ fed the lie. It was one lie I did not regret.

Her questions answered, Beth removed the cannula from Marcy's nose and the tubing from the IV port. She then pulled out her cell phone to call one of Marcy's physicians to report her death.

I walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway. Bella's position had not changed.

"Okay?" I asked her quietly.

She merely nodded shakily. I wrapped my arms around her and she took me in. She held on almost for dear life as I walked us back out into the living room.

Nothing was said.

I had to wonder how she would hold up when the hardest part was yet to come.

Becky arrived not twenty minutes later. Silence and comfort had found us up until that point. Bella stayed willingly in my arms, her wrists locked behind my lower back, up until Becky's car pulled up.

And all the while I couldn't help but think that there was too much bearing down on Bella; too much burden and guilt to play along anymore.

But I was wrong. The strength in her was never to be underestimated. Life and its trials had taught her to persevere, to coexist, and to shine like a brightly lit star when things got rough.

She was out of my arms and out the door before Becky even stepped out of the car.

She walked right up to her. Becky needed someone who understood - who had been there - because no matter how much you prepare yourself, you can never be prepared.

All Becky had to do was to look at Bella, and if she didn't already know, she knew it then.

Becky broke down in Bella's arms, and Bella comforted her, never telling her it was alright...because it wasn't.

Becky pulled every last bit of control she had together and pulled away from her. "Can you watch Summer for me? She'll need to take a dose of..."

"Of course," Bella told her. She didn't even hesitate.

"A...half a teaspoon. It's in her bag in the front seat."

"I'll take care of her. Go see your mom," she said to her softly.

Beth had joined me only for a moment on the porch, and then proceeded to walk down into the yard to validate the story I had fed her. Bella walked around to the passenger side of Becky's Corolla and opened the door to take Summer out of her car seat.

I went after her, even if I couldn't do anything at all.

Becky didn't even care, or maybe she didn't even realize I didn't feel normal. As much as I truthfully wanted to avoid it, we had to pass each other at some point. I also couldn't prevent myself from taking her into my arms to comfort her for just a moment, although some would argue that I had no right.

I told her she didn't suffer - and she didn't. I told her it was quick - and it was. She told me she was sorry - and so was I.

Beth supported Becky into the house after Becky told me she meant that she was sorry she had left us here alone with Marcy. She was sorry we had to witness it. I told her to knock it off, and she wept again. She also said that Marcy's brother, Larry, and his wife were on their way over.

Bella had Summer in her arms, and she was getting the bag out of the front seat when I finally made it over to her. I took the bag and we walked into the house. Summer was being fussy and she looked tired. I tried to focus on just her alone - on her and Bella - but Becky's grief was drifting in the air that escaped from the bedroom. Beth had closed the door to give her some privacy.

Bella and I walked into the kitchen, and I plopped the bag down on the table.

Bella lifted out the paper bag containing Summer's prescription. "Open it up. Read the directions just in case she told us wrong." Her voice was subdued.

I took the bag from her and did as she said. "No, she didn't. It is half a teaspoon. There's a dropper, too."

"Shake it up."

"You okay?"

"Peter." She gave me a hard look. Her tone was just as hard and concise. It was a 'we're not having this conversation now, and if you push it, I'll kick your fucking ass' tone.

And we weren't. I wouldn't push it. I wouldn't push her anymore. But I worried. I was _so_ worried.

Bella struggled with Summer a little bit, trying to get her to lie back in her arms. I filled the dropper and handed it to Bella, who then struggled to get her to take it. Summer was beside herself. She kept turning her head, not wanting to have anything to do with that dropper. It was kind of understandable.

Bella was getting exasperated. "Hold her head still. Summer, come on, sweetie..."

"Bella..."

"Peter!" she hissed.

Defeated, I listened.

I grabbed Summer's head lightly, my aversion cast aside because Bella had no time for it. She was asked to do one thing, and she would do that one thing. And she would make me do it with her because we owed so much more. At least Bella thought she did. It was simply obvious.

It was then that I thought she held herself somewhat responsible; that her decision - her plea for Marcy's life - was not just on my shoulders alone. She wanted to share the burden. Maybe she needed to for her own peace of mind.

Summer's skin and hair were soft; her head, fragile. Her warmth made my fingers tingle. She smelled wonderful - even with the smell of fresh and sweet urine. Once she tasted some of the antibiotics leaking out of the end of the dropper, she took it willingly.

It was amazing.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Bella cooed, smiling a smile meant only for her.

As soon as it was gone, Summer started wailing. Perplexed, Bella looked around the kitchen, and she stepped toward the fridge with Summer.

"I think she's hungry. Her diaper's really wet, though. She's leaking."

Becky had two bottles of milk at the ready inside. Bella wasn't sure if Becky still heated them up for Summer, so she had me take the nipple off and warm it up in the microwave for a few seconds; she said it took the edge off a little. Bella waited, and then had me shake some on the top of her hand, and I followed her out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Summer's room was next to Becky's on the opposite side of Marcy's. We went in and Bella put her down on the changing table. She had me look in the little dresser for another sleeper while she unsnapped the one Summer had on, taking it off. She changed her diaper, but Summer grew fussier by the second. I picked out a yellow one, much like the one she'd had on.

A round belly.

Chubby thighs that hid her knees.

Little toes with 'barely there' toenails; she curled them.

Fists-of-steel that wanted to grab...and hit...and knock the shit out of the vampire holding her bottle because he wouldn't give it to her just yet.

It was all so surreal.

We waited in the living room. Bella tried everything. She did everything she could. She sat down in the rocker-recliner where Summer hummed around the nipple, draining only half the bottle. She paced the living room. She walked with me in the kitchen to see if I could find her binky, which was in the bag.

She bounced her in her arms, cooed to her, and talked to her as much as she could. It was wearing on Bella. It was taxing her. She was a mess and trying to put on a good show.

Summer could see it. Summer could feel it.

I once read that children and animals could pick up on things; they could pick up on hidden emotions. But I had to wonder if Bella was doing a good job at hiding them at all. If I could feel the weight of the world pressing down on Bella's shoulders, what could Summer feel by being swaddled so closely to her body?

Becky came out once to check on Summer and Bella. Her face was drawn, her grief palpable. Bella told her she had given her the medicine, fed her, and changed her, but Summer was simply refusing to go to sleep. Becky thanked her and told us they were getting Marcy ready. She grabbed the phone book and took it back with her into the bedroom.

Summer absolutely refused to go to sleep. She wasn't entirely inconsolable, but she was fighting it. After fifty-eight minutes another car pulled into the drive, and with it came Marcy's brother, Larry, and his wife, Sharon. Becky came out of the bedroom and took Summer from Bella as they walked in.

Becky introduced us to them, and after some strange and curious looks, I was more than ready to get the hell out of there.

Bella even made it a point and pressed on my back with her hand, meaningfully.

We said our goodbyes.

It was awkward saying goodbye to someone whose mother I had just killed. In my heart I knew it was for the best, but it didn't mean it wasn't difficult or awkward. It definitely wasn't one of those, 'It's been fun!' moments. Far fucking from it.

Becky thanked us profusely, hugged Bella, and apologized...again. She also said she'd call with the arrangements as soon as she knew what they were. She was, in most aspects, her mother's daughter - someone who brought something good to the world, along with the daughter she cradled in her arms who was finally giving up.

Becky might have been grieving, but there was also relief there. That was something she didn't need to be ashamed about. It was better this way - better for the living - and Marcy would have wanted it that way. Anyone as wonderful as her and in her position would have wanted it that way. She knew the burden her daughter carried.

For Becky, time wouldn't heal the wound but it would take the edge off. And she had done everything she possibly could.

The ride home was silent. Bella looked out the window, her face drawn. She looked tired and she held my hand.

There were so many things I was proud of her for. There were so many things I was sorry for. I had forced her into a position I had no right putting her into, and certainly without her knowledge.

I had needed to show her how I hunt so I could know that she accepted it for what it was. The problem was I was asking her - as a human - to do the impossible; to be a part of _my_ life and _my_ ways as she was then. She shouldn't have had to shoulder that.

It was all because the future had changed. Things were progressing at an alarming rate. It was happening too fast because I was forcing it to. I was impatient and my need for her was too great.

Because it was what _I_ wanted.

I could have easily just have told her without exposing her to it, without making her relive things she just wanted to put behind her. It wasn't that she couldn't handle it; she _could_. She proved that.

But if I kept pushing, if I kept trying to move forward for her instead of with her, I was going to lose her.

"_we'll figure out our own pace. This won't work if we don't communicate, so we need to be honest with each other. Right? We'll keep it light."_

I had broken my promise. Even though I hadn't promised anything at that point, it had still been said with the best intentions and with the truth.

There was only one thing I could do to fix it, and that was to just...leave it alone. I had to let her come to terms with everything and let it all just...sink in. And I had to be there for her no matter what - no matter how hard it was for me.

I had to give her time.

But it was fucking killing me. Part of me wanted to take her and shake the living shit out her and yell in her face, "What! What! What the fuck happened!?" because her answer would no doubt be the one I was looking for. Her answer would validate that she had _seen_...that she now knew there was something out there...that God existed...that my wife was haunting the both of us.

A hemorrhoid incarnate from fucking...Heaven.

I could tell Bella the truth. God knows I owed it to her. I could force it on her, and I could watch the world I had built around me crumble into a million pieces right along with her.

Or she'd accept it for what it was. She'd deal with it.

She would kill me. She'd rip my heart right out of me and it would have been all for nothing.

I just didn't know what the right thing was anymore.

The only thing I knew was that I needed to give her space, and I was going to do it. I wasn't going to push her any further unless it was what she wanted. I had every intention, though, of telling her how I felt.

The rest was up to her.

There was a part of me that was sure I was underestimating her strength - her ability to persevere and to understand - but I was going to take baby steps to keep her.

And keep her preferably sane.

There was fire in her - tenacity, courage, and compassion unlike anything I'd ever seen. I more or less threw her in front of the bus, and she put her hand out to stop it. Fuck, she pushed it back. She pushed _me_.

She even _hit_ me. The desperation, the conflict, and the anger she exhibited created a fissure inside my heart.

Watching her uneasiness with Marcy leave her within an instant and then watching her spring into action was more than a fine example of her ability to react and to be strong in the most precarious of moments...and to worry about the consequences later.

The proof was in her ability to do _something_, even if she didn't know what the fuck she was doing. Because at that point in time, I sure as hell didn't know what to do. And it made me angry - angry at myself to see what it was doing to Bella. To see her sick to her stomach and drowning in dread because I had put her in that position.

I wished I were more like her.

It was strange and almost awe-inspiring to be following someone else's lead for a change. It was a kick to the gut when she threw my own self worth at me, but I knew hers was not that much better. Her point, though, had been dead on; I may have been superior in body, but I sure as fuck wasn't superior in mind. Or heart.

There were no words for how amazed I was watching them interact with each other - a mother's natural instinct and a daughter's ability to put all of her strength forward to take care of someone else's mom.

There were simply no words.

Fuck all the men who had wronged them so. Fuck _me_.

I pulled into the garage and Bella got out, shutting her door and opening the door to the back seat to swing her tote bag over her shoulder. I took it from her. She glanced at me quickly, and gave me an uneasy, half-ass, fake smile before she looked away. She walked through the laundry room and paused by the bathroom door.

"Uh, I have to go," she said thickly.

"Okay. I'll put your bag in the bedroom."

She gripped the door frame with her right hand. Her face was conflicted. She was scared.

"Um...could you...could you...never mind." She turned to walk in, but I grabbed her arm and pulled her close. My hand automatically flew up to wipe away the tear that had fallen.

"I'll wait in the kitchen," I told her.

She nodded, not meeting my eyes, and walked into the bathroom. She closed the door, but only halfway.

_Fuck_.

She had to know I wanted to question it - to question why she was behaving this way. But when I already knew - or at least I _thought_ I did - what the fuck was the right thing to do?

She wasn't ready to take a piss in front of me yet, but she sure as hell was going to leave the door open and cast aside her self-consciousness and vanity a little because she was scared to fucking death.

I decided to deter it into something else...because we needed to talk about witnessing the act itself; because I had no idea what had been running through her pretty little head when I killed Marcy. I had no idea if she would bolt and run when she saw it, what she thought about it, and what effect it had on her now when it was all said and done.

She wasn't ready to give me all the answers I was looking for, and that was fine. Sure, it went against the matter of trust that two halves of a whole _should_ have, but the larger picture in my case was so much worse than what she was keeping hidden - what she _needed_ to keep hidden - until she could accept it. Until she could reason with it.

But it was fucking killing me.

Bella was going to keep a secret. And it was...okay. It was okay.

It only stung a little.

I plopped her bag down on the island and walked over to turn the crock pot full of her spaghetti sauce off. There was no way in hell I was letting her eat that shit.

I heard Bella walk out of the bathroom while I was digging out a casserole dish to pour the sauce in. She came up slowly next to me when I started pouring it in and I splashed the shit on my shirt.

"Shiiit..."

"What are you doing?" she asked weakly.

"I'm...gonna freeze it. Unless you think you can eat spaghetti. I kind of figured you'd maybe want something a little...lighter. Again."

She was silent. I could see her in my peripheral vision; her face was tight and she swallowed. I looked at her for an answer.

She nodded. "Feeding me."

"Only what you can handle right now. And from my previous understanding, spaghetti is the least of your favorites, so...yeah. But, if you tell me now you can't eat, then you can't eat."

Bella had dug the foil out of the drawer, and she pulled me off a piece. She took the crock pot and put it in the sink, filling it up with water.

She'd only had a muffin this morning. It was now almost 5:00PM.

Bella didn't answer. She was dazed over, watching the water fill up in the crock pot.

"Bella?"

She snapped out of it, her head lifting up and looking at me quickly. "Maybe a little later. Not right now. You made enough sauce to feed a small family. Maybe...maybe I could make a lasagna, and then you can take it over to Becky's. They'll need to eat."

She slid to the side a little and reached up to get a glass out of the cupboard. She went over to the fridge and opened the freezer door to get some ice out. She paused, looking at something in the freezer. She pulled out the ice cream.

"Phish Food," she smiled. "I like Half-Baked better..." she trailed off as she looked back into the freezer.

_Shit_.

Oh..._fuck_.

She looked at me and glared. Her eyes lit up with fire. I was so fucked, it wasn't even funny.

She looked back inside the freezer, reached in, and pulled out the tub of Half-Baked I had also bought. She slammed the freezer door shut with her elbow, both tubs of ice cream now in her hands.

"Bella..."

"You _fucker_. You told me you didn't follow me home that night! Or what? Did you go through my fucking garbage?" She was...horrified, and she breathed out heavily. Her face steeled, and she glared at me again.

Ohhh, fuck _me_...

Hell hath no fury like a pissed off woman. She threw the tub of Phish Food at me and I caught it. Goddamn, she was feeling violent that day.

"There were two containers. One of them was Phish Food and the other one was Half-Baked. One was mine and the other's was...Oh, fuck. You heard me talking to her, didn't you?! You already heard me tell her about Edward and Jacob, and you...you..." She couldn't finish.

She really _wasn't_ making a mountain out of a molehill. And I did the only thing I could figure out to do.

I lied. Again.

Because I had not been thinking. I hadn't thought she was capable of putting two and two together when I bought those fucking pints. And my mind must have been half-fucking-baked to not even realize I was giving something away by buying them, just in case she would have wanted some goddamn variety for ice cream.

I walked over to the silverware drawer and pulled it open, grabbing a spoon. She stood there, panting in fury, tears welling up in her eyes.

I pulled the lid off, and I walked over and stood in front of her. Maybe it was a fucking stupid idea. When she had thrown that ice cream, it was aimed right at my head. She was a good shot, too, even if it wouldn't have hurt me.

"I followed you to the store. That was it. I swear, Bella, I didn't follow you home. I knew you were upset when I left you, and I thought...I thought that maybe I could change your mind. But I heard you tell Debbie to just come over, and you'd give her something to change into instead of her going home first, so I knew I wouldn't have a chance to talk to you. So I went hunting...in Arizona...because I needed to hunt. I got home on Wednesday."

I held up the tub of Phish Food. "And this? This right here? When I went shopping, I chose this one because it would have been the one that I would have chosen. Because I loved chocolate...and I loved caramel. And I wanted you to try it because it's something different. It's something good...like _me_."

She placed the tub of Half-Baked she'd been gripping with her other hand onto the counter top. She wiped away her tears and scrutinized my face. My...honesty. _Fuck_. It was _partially_ the truth.

"Like _you_," she said with disdain.

"Like _me_," I answered. I took a spoonful of ice cream and offered it to her.

She hesitated at first before finally wrapping her lips around the spoon, sucking off the ice cream. She worked it around her mouth, tasting it, and she chewed up one of the fish before she swallowed.

My dick got hard. Harder.

"It tastes nothing like you. You swear you didn't follow us home?"

"I swear." _God..._

She just stood there like judge and jury, weighing my reasons, and trying to burn the truth right out of my eyes.

I had no chance in hell.

She nodded her head back towards the ice cream. She looked like she was trying to choke back a crying jag. She even sounded like it. "Can I have some more?"

I sidled up closer to her and dished out another spoonful for her. "So...um...what did you talk to Debbie about, anyways? I mean, you don't have to tell me, but why do I get the feeling you reacting that way has to do with me?"

She worked that bite of ice cream around in her mouth, one hand on her hip, the other holding onto the counter top of the island. She was trying not to cry, but failing. "I told her about you. I told her everything. Almost everything."

I worked another bite out for her. "You told her everything? As in..._everything_?" I asked her gently.

She sucked in her lips and let out a half groan-half cry. She wouldn't look me in the eyes, so she just stared at my chest. "I told her _everything_. She knows what you are, Peter." Bella attacked the spoon.

"So...did she believe you?"

She worked the ice cream around in her mouth, and my dick twitched. _Of all the fucking times..._

"In the long run. You should know she was pushing for me to... She was defending you. She thinks you're _sweet_," she said, a little disgusted and defeated, but I could see her worry. She was worried for her friend; worried that I'd be upset with her.

"Well...good. Maybe you can introduce us sometime."

She looked at me a little shocked and surprised. "What?" she breathed out.

I fed her another bite. "You can introduce us sometime. Are you worried that I'd be mad? Mad because she knows what I am? I'm not. But I won't say it doesn't worry me a little. I don't know Debbie, but if you trusted her enough to confide in her, then I'll trust her, too. You needed to talk to somebody, right? So, don't worry about it. Don't worry about her. I won't eat her."

Bella winced. It was a _little_ tasteless. "Could you...not say that? I'm just not in a joking mood right now."

"Sorry. Sorry I lied to you, too."

She huffed out and looked at me. "Yeah," she said with a little disbelief, and she even shook her head. That was enough to tell me that she was getting fed up.

She was tired of the lies and the betrayal.

I fed her another bite as she sighed out in relief. She was still tense, though. "That's enough. I'm getting a headache."

I put her ice cream and her spoon down and pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around my waist tightly and rested her head against my chest. I buried my face in her hair, kissing her head.

I changed the subject because a part of my brain had dissected her previous words, and for the life of me - for once - I couldn't believe what we were about to embark on. It even sounded pretty fucked up in _my_ head, and I could be a morbid son of a bitch with a dark sense of humor.

'Hey, Becky, long time, no see! You don't know this, but I killed your mother while my girlfriend was cheering me on. My dead wife gave her the freak out of all freak outs, and she needed to make you this so she could embrace her avoidance _and_ my stiffy for just a little while longer. Lasagna?'

It was the truth, though. Bella wasn't ready to settle in. She wasn't ready to address the issue, even with herself.

"So you...um...you want to make Becky a lasagna? You know, I'm sure I don't have to tell you but that sounds a little..."

"Messed up. Fucked up. Whatever. I know. I'm sorry," she said thickly into my shirt. I'm sure she could feel the stiffy I was sporting because he was poking her in the stomach. But she clearly wasn't in the mood.

Instead it was cuddle time because Peter _could_ and _would_ chase the big, bad hemorrhoids with wings away.

I was feeling funny. There's _avoidance_ for you.

We just had different ways of circumventing it.

I rubbed her back. "Well...you know...maybe that's not such a bad idea. Larry and his wife probably won't hang around that long. Larry's never really been around to begin with, but Becky and Marcy both have their fair share of friends and I'm sure they'll be over and they'll need to eat. It'd be a nice thing to do. I'll have to run to the store, though. I don't have everything to make a lasagna."

Bella nodded against my chest and her grip around my waist tightened. "I'll go with you."

"You'll go with me." I tightened my arms around her shoulders, burying her head into me even more.

If it hurt her, she didn't complain.

_You'll not get to her again tonight. You'll not get to her at all. _

Low level clouds were breaking apart across the sky. There would be a sunset later.

A wisp of cold air blew across my face, so light it was almost unnoticeable.

A caress.

An answer I could live with.

The nearest grocery store was only five minutes away, and we wasted no time picking up what was needed for Bella's lasagna. It was actually _Renee's_ lasagna- sauce, noodles, cheese, eggs, cottage cheese, spinach, and more cheese. We also bought a French loaf that was already buttered, and a foil pan that Becky wouldn't need to bother returning. Bella said we would just put it together, and Becky could bake it when she was ready.

She hardly said a thing; but as time passed, she relaxed. A little. I asked her what she wanted to do tonight, and she said she still wanted to sit in the hot tub.

It wasn't completely uncomfortable between us. Sure, there were things to talk about; I think we both knew that. Hence the awkwardness whenever one of us would glance at the other. Constantly.

But we did use our time wisely. _I_ figured out the things I wanted to say while _she_ got a distraction. If anything, I was beginning to pay attention to time.

Bella would be going home in the morning. The little niche we had carved out for ourselves, and which at times had been tumultuous and thought-provoking, was also inevitably the best experience of my life with her.

Our first days together. Folding laundry. Watching a sunset and a movie. Our first nights together. Intimate touches and making love. Passionate fucking. Mind-blowing blow jobs. Tears of joy, loss, and heartache. Proclamations of love. And countless discoveries, both little _and_ life-altering.

I only wished I could have made it better.

We made her lasagna together. She laughed at me because I made horrible faces at her cottage cheese, egg, and spinach concoction. She took a small bowl out of the cupboard and filled it up with some sauce for herself. She had me get a small pot and fill it with water so she could boil some spaghetti while we worked on layer-after-layer of lasagna.

I was in charge of the cheese and the lasagna noodles, and she was in charge of spreading her shit concoction and the sauce. We did the dishes together; she washed and I rinsed.

She was putting a few layers of foil over the lasagna while I drained her spaghetti. "You gonna eat before we go to Marcy's? We'll just drop it off and tell Becky we can't stay, or something like that."

She grabbed the French loaf and sat it on top of the pan. "Um...do you care if I just stay here? I'll just go ahead and eat."

"Yeah, that's fine. You sure?" It was a little unexpected, and she looked incredibly uneasy.

I didn't want to leave her alone, not even for a second. I don't think she wanted to be left alone either, but even she knew that at some point she'd have to be.

She looked at me and smiled while she got a plate out of the cupboard. I walked over to her with her drained spaghetti and put it on the plate. "Yeah, I'm sure. Just tell her to not bake it too long whenever she decides to cook it because it'll cook fast in this pan, and...um...tell her...tell her I'm so sorry about her mother and that it was a pleasure meeting the three of them."

"If she tells me about the arrangements, should I tell her we're going, or not?" I asked.

I wasn't going without her. I might be the one seeing to her final burial - at sea - but there would be no fanfare for that. A quick prayer for her to enjoy the afterlife and then a dump in the ocean would be all that she'd expect.

It was wonderful to know she was out there somewhere.

Marcy didn't want a 'great, big, ole crying party', where friends and family reminisced about all the things that were good about her out loud for everyone to hear when all they did was 'talk shit or act like assholes when she was in her prime.' But Becky disagreed to a point. I had a feeling, though, that she would respect her mother's wishes.

Bella sighed audibly while spooning some sauce on her spaghetti. "Peter, I don't think I can do a funeral. It just doesn't...feel right. But...um...if there's a visitation, I think I'd be okay with that if she expects us. I mean, I don't have to stay. It's hard to pay my respects to someone I really didn't know, but I know you want me there. I can look Becky in the face and know it was the right thing to do, but...um...I...I don't know. I don't really know how to feel about this. I'm sorry."

There really was no right or wrong answer. She knew it was the right thing to do for Marcy, but the lie and the charade to Becky and the rest of the living weighed heavily on her.

"There's no right or wrong answer, Bella. This is a first for me, too, so we'll go to a visitation if there is one, and only if you think you're up for it when it happens. We'll skip the funeral. Funerals tend to be stuffy and suffocating anyways. You think your bosses will let you off for a little bit in case it's a work day? It'll probably be at night."

She looked up at me, thoughtful for a moment. "Yeah. Or I might just have someone cover me the whole night. My long week starts back up tomorrow, which...kind of sucks." She walked over to the fridge and pulled out a container of parmesan.

I grabbed her a fork and walked her plate over to the island. "Yeah, it does. Okay...well, um...I'm gonna take this over to Becky's. I'll hurry back." She had moved over to the other side of the island, and her eyes flashed briefly but she stifled whatever she felt.

"Okay. Hurry back."

We looked at each other for a moment. Nothing in particular showed on her face.

I leaned over the counter and she leaned forward. I ran my thumb across the shadow beneath her eye and pressed my forehead against hers, staring into her. I gave her a quick and firm kiss.

"I will. I promise."

I made good on my promise.

When I got to Becky's, the only car in the driveway was hers. Her neighbor from across the street was over, and Marcy's body had already been picked up. One of her cousins was coming over, along with a friend of Becky's, and Bella's lasagna would be put to good use. I told her I couldn't stay because I needed to get back to Bella, and she told me she still didn't know what the arrangements were and that she'd have to call the next day. She thanked me and cried again. She told me to ask Bella if she'd come, and I told her that she'd try because she had to work.

I was only gone for twenty two-minutes. It wasn't bad, but it was still a long twenty-two fucking minutes. The sun broke through on my way home, and it was just sitting above the mountain tops.

When I got back to the house, Bella wasn't in the living room or the kitchen. I heard her heartbeat coming from the bedroom. "Bella!?"

"I'm in the bedroom."

She was standing there, half naked, while she tied the strings together on the top of her swimsuit. A black bikini.

Nothing fancy. Bought at Target when it was on sale for $19.95. On a Tuesday. Debbie had talked her into going with her to the public pool.

She had the bottoms on, and her ass cheeks were bulging out a little along the seams. She had been thinner when she bought it.

Pale, translucent, soft skin and firm calves. I studied the curve from the small of her back down her nice, little, round ass.

Her breasts were just _there_.

She was standing by the bed and facing the direction of the headboard. She twisted her top around and pulled it up - hiding her breasts - and tied the strings behind her neck.

I got hard.

"I know."

She didn't jump, and she looked really happy to see me. She also, of course, caught me staring at her body. It made her blush and look away.

"That was quick. Dinner was great. Best spaghetti I've eaten in a long time, thank you." She swallowed. She was nervous.

I nodded at her once. I walked over to my dresser, pulling my shirt off and throwing it in the pile of clothes by the door as I went. "Becky doesn't know anything yet. She'll call when she finds out. Probably won't be until tomorrow, so..."

"Okay. Just whenever you find out."

It was evident that nothing remarkable had happened in my absence. I fought the urge to just sigh in relief.

I guess I should have mentioned that when I used the hot tub, I usually preferred to do it naked. Either way, I did have a pair of dark blue swimming trunks, and I dug them out. I was pretty sure my hot tub fantasy was going to have to wait for another day. That was okay.

If she let me love her body that night - in any way – it would be enough. It was enough to just have her there. Though I thought we both just needed to fuck. And fuck again. _Hard_.

I turned around to go sit on the bed so I could take my shoes off, and I caught Bella staring at me. She had been looking at my back before she turned away, and she started to fidget with her hands. I smiled dubiously, chuckling. If I could have blushed, I would have. It made my heart swell inside to know she was so attracted to me.

Her back was to me, and I pulled her close and snared her arms by locking mine around her chest. I brushed the hair away from her shoulder and neck.

I leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "I guarantee," I moved to her neck and kissed the side of it, "that I look at you," I trailed my lips up and kissed her cheek, "just like you look at me."

She shuddered against me, sighing deeply while laying her head back. Her hands came up and rested on my forearms.

We stood there quietly for a moment. Nothing really needed to be said.

I let her go and I sat down, taking my shoes and socks off.

She looked at me, her eyes traveling down to my crotch. "I'm gonna go grab our towels so your ego can simmer down and you don't burst. I'll meet you outside." She blushed a little, and smirked as well, and then walked into the bathroom.

I waited until she walked back out before I dropped my pants.

The truth was that was a blow to my ego. Because my dick was at the ready, and he wanted to burst forth and make all things right with the world.

Son of a bitch.

I had no control over my body anymore, and it was really kind of irritating.

Before I made my existence known to Bella, and when she wasn't around to do anything about it, it had become a routine. Feeding enlivened me; I could feel the renewed energy it created running throughout my body, everywhere.

I spent more time jerking off my dick after a good kill than I actually did hunting them down. Try explaining _that _one to your girlfriend.

Mate.

Wife.

I wasn't there, yet.

She was much more lighthearted, but she was still tense and a little withdrawn.

She was just getting into the hot tub when I made my way out of the bedroom. I waited just behind the glass door and I watched her.

She plugged her nose and she dipped down, submerging herself for a moment before she popped back up. She always plugged her nose now - kind of a habit she picked up after nearly drowning.

I walked outside.

The sun hadn't dipped down below the Jimez Range yet, and her skin glowed orange and red from the setting sun. Her dark hair was drenched and it cascaded down her back, and I followed its length down to where the water made the ends dance in the surface.

Her back was to me, and she turned around to sit on one of the built-in seats, gripping it with her hands under the water because the jets were on full blast and the waves and bubbles were knocking her about.

Bella sighed deeply and opened her eyes. She found me immediately. But why wouldn't she? I was a walking, talking - yet speechless at the time - disco ball.

I was kind of nervous. Rich brown met my red.

She gasped a little, and her mouth formed this delicious little 'o'. Either age and gravity were starting to affect that bottom lip of hers or she bit it too much - that sucker just seemed to get puffier and sexier every single day.

She took a deep breath and shifted her shoulders a little, fidgeting, and tried to regain her composure. I jumped in.

"Should I pull out my dick so I can answer that question that's entered your mind at some point since you've discovered sparkly vampires exist?"

She lost it, turning bright red as she laughed boisterously. I smiled at her as I dipped down quickly and moved over to her, parting her knees and lifting her up so she could sit on my lap while I had her pinned to the wall of the tub.

I wrapped my arms underneath hers as I sat on my shins, and I drew her really, really close, matching up our boy and girl parts perfectly. We were at eye level that way.

"Could you not? Like I said, I don't care for fancy things. I don't need them. I might not be able to stand the thought that I went down on something that belongs in the front window of Tiffany's and Co.," Bella answered, while her laughter subsided. She anchored her arms around my upper biceps and her fingers interlaced behind my back.

"I think I can handle that rather simple request," I said.

"Good."

A minute passed by in silence. Things got serious real quick.

Her eyes grew more nervous; her emotions failed to be repressed behind them.

At the same time, though, I couldn't help but think that Bella was right - I did have a length problem when it came to talking. But I was right, too - sometimes I did talk out of my ass.

So I just stared at her while I tried to find a way to say what I wanted to say without her feeling the need to analyze it later, and to be as clear and as concise as possible.

I nodded once. "Let's talk. Or, how about you let me talk, and when you feel like saying something, you say it."

Her cheeks tensed and she puckered her mouth. Her eyes teared up, making the browns in her eyes more vivid. My head eclipsed the last rays of the sun's setting light, casting her in my shadow. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Her defenses were already on the rise, and she took deep breaths to protect her fast and thudding heart. She pushed away a bit with her shoulders, trying to gain what little space she could.

And I was going to give her plenty..._and_ plenty to think about. Just not physically at the moment.

It was...very...fucking...difficult.

They were words I didn't say so easily. They were words that should always be treated and thought of with the meaning behind them. They were words that should always stand above the rest because they _do _have meaning.

They should garner the emotions they bring to the other; they should garner your own for what you know to be true.

And that's that you _are_...

"Sorry. I'm sorry for putting you through this. I'm sorry for forcing you into something you weren't ready for. Maybe you really could never be ready. And I'm sorry for trying to make my choices and the values that I cling to _yours_."

The emotion my words brought - the emotion they exhibited in their truth - couldn't help but be felt. It immediately caught her attention...and her alarm.

Her hands flew up to my face. "No...no, no. I understand, Peter. I understand why you did it...why you did all of it. Don't let the words I said...earlier...make you think that I resent it or that I resent you. I was angry. I was mad because it seemed like you didn't want to see reason," she said thickly, sobbing.

"But they were the truth, Bella. You can't look at me right now and tell me they weren't the truth, can you? I never should have taken you there. Don't lie. Not about that."

She couldn't answer right away because it was true. In her eyes, she was sorrowful, but she just couldn't bring herself to say the words. She broke eye contact and looked down, choking back another sob.

"Hey, hey...don't do that. Don't be sorry for feeling that way."

Her right hand broke away from my back and she pressed her fingers against my lips; they were trembling.

"If I told you...ohhh..." She swallowed and she still wouldn't look at me. "If I told you that the reasons I told you that have changed since I said that, could you...would you...understand that I have reasons for why I'm glad that you did, and reasons for why I wish I was never there? Oh, God. That doesn't make any fucking sense," she said, somewhat disgusted at herself.

I laughed. Her logic _did_ make sense - to her. She just needed to figure it out for herself first.

She slapped my shoulder, and then she gripped it. "Shut up. It's not funny," she said as seriously as possible, laughing briefly.

"Actually, it could make perfect sense, but I'd have to hear those reasons, and I have a feeling you don't want to share them with me just yet."

She just...broke down. As much as she tried to fight it off, she just broke down. The tears flowed and she cried for all that she was worth. There was so much conflict rolling out of her that it was staggering and easy to pick up through her face.

It was almost as if she'd lost something - something dear. Something she wanted back. "I can't. I just...can't."

My hands were cupping her face as she shook, and my thumbs wiped away her tears as my forehead met hers.

It broke my heart. _She_ broke my heart.

"Shh...shh...come on now, baby. It's okay. It's okay." But was it? I didn't know _what_ to think.

I was sure the answer was staring me right in the fucking eye, but I was just too blinded by love to see it.

I lifted my head and I pulled her face up. "Look at me, Bella. Look at me."

I gave her a moment to do just that, and I gave her a moment to calm down a little. I'm sure I was looking at her intensely. And I knew I would speak to her more than a little firmly - with a little pansy mixed in. Her pupils dilated. It was fear.

"I know something happened in that room. I know it." She tried to move her head out of my grasp, but I held her firm. "Nobody could walk in that room and not see that something had happened. I don't know what it was - if it was something with Marcy or something with you - but I _do_ know something happened. And I also know...I also know you need to come to terms with it for yourself. _With_ yourself..."

"And I'll be right here," I put my hand over her heart, "when you do, even if you can't ever tell me. Okay?"

She nodded as her face fell, and she collapsed against me.

I lifted her up and out of the hot tub to sit on the edge as she clung to me for dear life. Her skin hot; her blood racing; she needed to cool a little. I rubbed her back as she cried into my neck. Her muscles were tense and knotted up. So much weight to bear on a back that had carried tons already.

She sniffled into my shoulder as she calmed. Twice she tried to speak, and I just waited.

Bella finally pulled back, wiping away the mess that she left on my shoulder and neck. It was always obvious when she thought of herself as weak. She wouldn't look at my face or in my eyes, but she would look at me in some way - whether it was looking at my chest, or my hand rubbing her thigh, or her own hand as she made circles and figure eights on my shoulder around a scar.

If she only knew how far from the truth she was in thinking that way.

"I understand, though. I do. I understand why you showed me...a day in your life. I don't want you to be sorry that you did. I know you just wanted to show me because...maybe you have this doubt that I couldn't love you for all that you are and for what you do, but I do love you. I just...I don't know."

I leaned down and caught her lips in a quick kiss. "Yes, you do. But I'll say it because it all comes back to me. Look at the facts, Bella. Look at this all...realistically. We've only known each other - _truly _known each other - for just a few days, although I could probably say I fell in love with you before that. You're just finding out that you love me back. You may love me and you may want me, but you haven't had time to let it be. You haven't had time to get used to it because I haven't been giving you time. I've been pushing and pushing you towards what _I_ want, and I've come to realize that if I keep doing that, I might just push you away."

She shook her head and met my eyes. "I love you. I don't need everything else to be spelled out clearly to know _that_."

I looked at her pointedly. "I know that. But you need time to get used to the idea...and to everything I want in the long run. It's all so new, Bella. It's raw. It's intense. I can _feel_ that. It's wonderful. It's the best fucking thing I've ever experienced. But it needs to sit. You need to get used to it. We _both_ do."

She looked confused; worried almost. "What do you mean 'it needs to sit'?"

A remnant from her crying jag made its way out of her chest. She shuddered a little and goosebumps spiked across her flesh.

I put my arms around her and lifted her up, pulling her back into the water. I pulled her over to another seat that sat higher in the tub, and I sat her on my lap so she could escape if she needed to.

I felt my heart tighten.

I was never so nervous in all my life.

I was going to put it out there because she needed to know _where_ I stood and _what_ I wanted. I would give her all the time in the world she needed to get used to it because I really could see no other choice. She also needed to know that there would be no argument or concern over what she'd want in return because it was what I wanted more than anything as well. She wanted - and needed - equal footing. It was more than understandable.

"Us, Bella. You need to let the idea of _us_...sit. We've talked about it to an extent, but I'm talking about the future. You just need to get used to the idea of loving me and you need to get used to the idea of what I'm asking for. I want forever. I want to kill you, and I want to make you my wife. Fuck, I'll even marry you with a pulse if I have to. But I _need_ you, and I'll only take you for eternity."

I just let it all roll off my tongue like it wasn't a big fucking deal, when the reality was...it _was_.

The shock on her face was somewhat comical, and it just sort of melted away until she looked almost dumbfounded. Her heart - that wonderful, lively thing that was so full of vitality - missed a beat twice.

But I swear to God I felt it swell inside of her.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't want to be married to some crotchety, old bitch because she decided humanity was working for her after all. And you should also know that I'm not asking you to marry me right now. I'll do that properly when the time is right, thank you very much. But you should also know that I'll...I'll probably screw up again, and I'll push your buttons... But it's what I want. And I want it bad and I want it now. I don't know how to give up when it comes to you."

Fuck the past. Screw everything I had done to obtain what was given to me in the first place. All that mattered was right there, and everything we experienced up until that moment. I wasn't pushing her towards it any more than that. I wasn't going to push her anymore, period.

She needed to know, though, that that was what I wanted. It needed to be clear as a bell for her - not because she was a dumb ass, but because she needed to hear it so there would be no question or doubt in her mind. But we were going to give us time to get used to it.

I was also going to internally pray to God to not let Charlotte fuck it up any more than she already had. If the truth needed to come out, it would find its way.

Or not.

She was going to cry. The lump was nearly visible in her throat.

"How much time?" she asked, barely squeaking out the words.

I smiled at her gently. I hadn't really told her the truth.

"When your tits start to sag down to your knees, I'll re-examine my position."

She nodded nervously, forcing back the smile that wanted to break through. "Maybe you won't have to wait as long as you think."

"I'm not worried about waiting at all, but I will ask you, Bella."

She stayed silent but she looked at me pleadingly. She was trying to find the words to say something, and she was struggling to keep herself from crying.

It took her a minute to finally say what she wanted to say. "My life, my...dad?"

She floored me. It was as if I had no legs and I just dropped, or my heart just dropped to the complete bottom with what was going through my head by her question - by all rights, it was an indicator of what her answer was...or what it would be.

"One step at a time. We'll try to figure something out, but I can't promise we will. You're thinking about something that's better left for later. We'll just have to wait and see and take one day at a time. We don't have to figure everything out right now. But if you give me your life, I'll try to help you figure out how you can keep a part of his."

One tear dropped from the corner of her left eye and it rolled down her face. She nodded furiously. "Okay."

"Okay."

I pulled her closer, her head falling to my shoulder as she sobbed a little into my neck. I gave her a minute or two to calm somewhat while I rubbed her back.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked.

She sniffled. "What?"

I reached up from stroking her thighs to pull her head back. "Knowing what you know now, now that you've seen it, did it scare you? Did watching me kill Marcy frighten you?"

She thought for a moment as she studied my eyes. Her face was close to mine, and I couldn't help but kiss her lips gently. "Yes and no. Yes because I didn't know what to expect, but in a way it was..." She didn't finish. Instead, she grimaced.

"In a way it was _what_?"

She sighed, and she looked sorrowful. "Knowing what I know now, it was kind of...beautiful," she breathed out. It was almost as if she was ashamed to admit it. She looked down and she shook her head minutely.

I lifted her head with my hands so she would look at me again. "You're right. It _is_ kind of beautiful. Do you know why?"

She jutted out her chin for me to answer.

"Because it's what Marcy wanted. If she couldn't live, she wanted to die quick. And she did. You heard her, you know that. When they want it, and if they deserve it, it _is_ beautiful. It's the charade and the lie to the living that makes you feel ashamed, Bella, and I have no intention of ever putting you or myself through something like that again."

She nodded between my palms and sat up a little more. She sat stronger, but there was a question burning in her eyes.

"What about the others, like...Delasantos? How...how would you describe that?"

"We'll go with the opposite. Ugly. The act of killing someone can be brutal and violent if you allow it to be. Sometimes you can't help but think that maybe...just maybe...they need to feel a little bit of what pain really is, if what they've done has warranted it. Sometimes you wish that death didn't have to come so quickly for someone like him, but it does if you're thirsty enough. And we always are. But still, the thought of...making someone like him suffer a little - it's there. And maybe...just maybe...your values _will _slip aside and you'll hurt someone like him just so he knows what pain is really like. And you have to wonder if that makes _you_ ugly for thinking it. Some would say yes; some would say no. But then, he's dead, so..."

"You still would do right by him. But he will see you coming. He'll know he's gonna die."

"Yes," I answered truthfully. _Once upon a time maybe not..._

She nodded in understanding, leaning forward to rest her head on my shoulder as she wrapped her arms around my lower back. I rubbed the length of her thighs from her bent knees to her hips.

It would no doubt be a conversation that we would have time and time again, and I didn't care. I would spell out the ugly shit so she could move forward with eyes wide open when it came to making that choice. There was no point in sugar-coating any of it.

"Can I ask you another question?" I asked.

"Hmm..."

"You said earlier that you could look at Becky and know it was the right thing to do. But can you look at yourself?" She lifted her head up and looked at me. "Can you look in the mirror and know that there wasn't anything you could have done to stop it? The only thing you changed was when it was going to happen. I don't want you to..."

She did not hesitate. "I might not have been the one who killed her, but I was there and I wanted you to do it. There's a difference, but...say you were human. Let's say you were still going to kill her, you had a gun, and I was right there with you. It'd be no fucking different than pulling the trigger myself. I think I would have done it. No one...no one like that lady I met today should have to suffer like that. No one. And to answer your question, yes. Yes, I can look in the mirror, because I know what we did was right."

But it was still upsetting because Bella had a good heart. And if there was a way she could have saved her, she would have.

She _did_. And she needed to share the burden because - in her eyes - walking away from witnessing it would make her think that I thought she had doubt...when she didn't at all.

Her head was down on my shoulder again, and her arm was slung around me so she could twist the hair at the nape of my neck with her fingers.

"Can I ask you another question?"

She raised her head up and looked at me with exasperation. "What? What?"

I chuckled under my breath at her. "Was my spaghetti really that good?" I cooed to her.

She pulled my hair and smiled, laying her head back down. "No, it tasted like ass and you used too much garlic."

I could feel the smile of her lips against my neck. I poked a tender and ticklish spot on her left side near her ribcage and she flinched and squealed.

"Rachel Ray taught me how to cook that."

"Rachel Ray's cooking tastes like ass. Maybe you should just give up on your quest to make me love spaghetti again."

She kissed the side of my neck lightly, and I moved my hands up her hips and squeezed her ass in to sit closer. _Real_ close. She spread her legs a little more and our happy places rested more comfortably against each other.

"Yeah, you're probably right. You're awfully picky and you test my patience," I teased in her hair.

She laughed a little, sighing heavily. She didn't say anything, so we sat in silence.

I slid my hands up her back, slowly kneading her very warm flesh with my fingers as I worked up to her shoulders and to her neck. Her skin was soft, and what wasn't under the water was slick with condensation and perspiration and turning red with the heat.

I wanted to have sex. I wanted to make love. I sure as hell was gonna try to put her in the mood.

I untied the bow holding the bottom of her top on, rubbing her back on the way up and untying the bow around her neck. She didn't object at all, and I pulled her top out between us. Her skin prickled and she sighed heavily.

The clouds were rolling in. With it came twilight and a light, cool breeze coming in from the southeast. Thunder rolled in the distance, but I doubt Bella heard it.

She was drawing circles lazily over the skin of my right shoulder with the tip of her fingers and smiling against the skin at my neck. Body parts were starting to wake up, and I felt her nipples tighten against my chest when I followed the seams of her bottoms with my fingers. She changed from drawing circles, to drawing letters.

"Y," I said, when I felt her draw a 'Y'.

"O..."

"U..."

"A..."

"R..."

"E..."

"M..."

"I..."

"N..."

"E..." And she drew a heart, too.

I lowered my head and nuzzled the side of her face. "I like it when you're all sappy, Bunny."

"I like it when you're not being a dick...Petey," she murmured into my neck. I felt her tongue swipe along my vein, and the shudder went straight to my dick.

Shit was waking up. In fact, it went from limp to erect in a second. Bella realized it, too, and she laughed under her breath as she scraped her teeth along my vein.

"Speaking of dicks, I was sporting a stiffy while you were eating ice cream today. And if you ever call me Petey again, I'll load it up with ex-lax," I told her.

She pulled the back of my hair roughly when I didn't expect it and she lifted her own head to look at me pointedly.

"Yeah, about that... You need to quit the fucking lying. That shit, it's just wrong. I can understand why you did it but it doesn't make it right. And if you keep it up...this?" she motioned between us, "Me? I'll be walking out that door and I won't be looking back. I love you more than anything in the world right now, but I won't let you treat me like that. Like you don't...value me. Or respect me. So, is there anything else? Because now is the time to get the shit out because you're running out of chances."

It hurt her. My lies were hurting her, and they were already tearing her apart.

My heart exploded. Disintegrated. Not my love; just my heart. That's what it felt like. I felt like I was going to throw up, and I had to wonder how that was possible unless it meant that I was truly going to fall apart when she walked away from me.

There wasn't a thing she had said that wasn't dead on.

There wasn't a part of me that didn't hate myself for it.

It would kill me. And I was afraid to die...now.

It would kill her.

It would be weeks before I'd actually find out that it would.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"No," I answered. "There's nothing else."

She looked at me. She looked into my eyes and saw the answer. Her frown grew more pronounced, and her eyes grew alarmed for just an instant. She _knew_.

Bella sighed, and she released my hair she had in her grip and moved her hands to my face. Her eyes followed her fingertips as she wiped away drops of water from beneath my eyes and by my lips. "Okay." She nodded. "Good."

I found energy in my limbs again and I reached up and wiped away the tear that had leaked out when she'd made her statement.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at me and nodded, and she smiled a little. "I know...I know. It's...okay."

She sat up more and cradled my head to her chest, massaging my scalp.

It was amazing how quickly the tables could turn; instead of her being the one who was being treated with care and consideration and love, it was now me.

I didn't deserve it.

It took great effort on my part to wrap my arms around her and hold her just as tightly as she held me; not because I didn't feel her or love her with everything I was, but because she knew something wasn't right and she still did it. She still _loved_ me. She valued me.

And she scared me to death.

Where I had been the one holding her heart, now she was holding mine. Nobody could ever say she was weak; she was the strongest person I knew, and exponentially, the most beautiful.

_Help me._

I couldn't bring myself to just tell her. I was just so sure I was going to lose her. And I couldn't. I just couldn't lose her.

She eased back down into my lap, holding my head between her palms while she planted my forehead, my eyes, and my nose with butterfly kisses.

I may or may not have shuddered against her; I didn't really know.

When she reached my lips, she pulled back just enough so she could look into my eyes.

"I've been to that place you just went to, and it's uglier than hell. Just...don't ever leave me, Peter. Don't _ever_ leave me."

"I won't. I promise."

She kissed me as hard as she could. The desperation in that kiss told me she just wanted to forget that little exchange, and she wanted me to forget it too. It was only the second time that had happened that day. The only difference was she was the one who was silently asking.

I obliged. She was in command, but we both needed tenderness and we both just needed to lose ourselves for a while.

When she parted her lips, I slipped my tongue into her mouth and she moaned out long and deep against me. While I had been thinking I was going to die while we were having that conversation, my dick literally did. But he came alive again as she ground herself on top of me. Her mouth was feverish as she sucked on my tongue, so I moved one hand up to cup her head and the other to her right hip and thigh to quiet her need and desperation a little.

She was right; I did use too much garlic. The shit was just...clinging. She had even brushed her teeth.

I liked a good slam myself, but I wanted to find something in the middle. The undulation of her pussy on my cock was driving me mad. The blood flow to her nipples was driving me mad. Her little hand traveling down my side to grip the backside of my hip to urge me forward was driving me mad.

"Slow down, Bella. Just a little."

She moaned out in protest around my tongue, but acquiesced. I let my hand travel down her neck and to her shoulder, and then under her arm and along the side of her breast. She was smashed up against me, and I dipped my thumb between us to tease her nipple, pushing on it gently. She arched her back; her breasts a conduit to turning her button on.

I pulled on her hip and gripped it, and if her body wasn't hot enough from the water, the warmth of her pussy was even hotter as I soaked up her heat. Her moans sent tingling sensations from my head down to my legs.

She broke free of my mouth and pushed herself out of my grasp to stand a little ways away on the floor of the tub. Her face, especially around her lust-filled eyes, was red with heat. Her lips were deliciously swelled from both the heat and our kisses.

Dry tendrils of hair blew up and out in the breeze, caressing her face. Her breasts heaved as she breathed, and the cold air hitting her nipples made them perk even more. Until they were perfect - perfect for touching, for licking, for kissing. The water covered her and splashed around her from her ribs down, new drops hitting her chest, and the moon had found its way out of some broken cloud cover drifting off to the southeast. Its light shined down on her right shoulder and backside.

She sparkled in the moonlight.

She was perfect. Her heartbeat was a vital and heavy thudding promise of the love it was filled with for me.

She looked at me like she was in love, and there was no trepidation as she dipped her hands to her sides to untie the bows holding her bottoms on. She pulled it away from herself with her left hand and walked a little closer.

She kept her eyes on mine as she slowly ran her hands up my thighs, and I purred when she brushed by the base of my cock through my shorts with her left thumb.

She moved her hands to grip the waist of my shorts. I lifted up enough so she could pull them off, and then I reached out and grasped her shoulders, tugging her over lightly as she let her legs swim out and in so she could straddle my lap.

One hand went around my neck and the other started to trace the outline of muscles on my stomach, her touch so feather light that they clenched involuntarily. I grabbed her hip with one hand and wormed my other hand into the crease of her bent knee. Her pussy found friction sitting on the base of my cock as I pulled on her hip and pushed her down. She moaned a little, staring into my eyes.

"You're so warm," she breathed out as she swiveled her hips. I couldn't help the half groan, half growl that came out when I felt the hard ridge of my cock slip between her folds. She was hot. She was on fire. My entire scrotum clenched ; my dick twitched - and I basked in her heat.

"Peter, your head," she laughed breathlessly.

I had thrown my head back when she instigated that little move. I'd find out later that I had cracked the side of the tub.

"It didn't hurt."

"I know..." Her lips found purchase as she moved her upper body forward. My right hand flew up to squeeze and cup her breast. She breathed into my mouth, her lips hot and plump with free-flowing blood, a murmur of the beat of her heart filtering through her soft lips. She licked around mine, moaning a little as I pinched and tugged her nipple slightly. I slid my tongue down her chin to the dip in her jaw and traced the thin scar underneath it.

Her head lolled back on her shoulders; she loved to have her neck kissed and sucked. Her hand slid down my side, trembling, while I breathed out against the column of her throat, kissing and sucking her skin lightly so as not to mark her up anymore.

She was already mine.

She had said I was hers.

She panted above me as I lifted her breast and closed my mouth around her nipple. Her hand was worming its way between us in the water below, and she gripped my cock in her palm. She pulled me and stroked me, and I squirted into her hand a little. The flow of venom to my cock from the heat of her body and the pool would be my undoing.

I flicked her pebbled nipple and drew more of her into my mouth as she took the tip of my cock and traced her slick heat. Her arousal, thicker than water, was warmer because her insides seemed to be boiling.

She lined up the tip of my cock with her passageway, and I left her breast to sit up so she could take me inside.

Her lips were parted, and I touched mine to hers while I stared at her face. Her eyes were closed as she pushed down gently, taking me in. I fought the urge to throw my head back from the sensation because, Christ, it was heaven.

Hot. Tight. Hot. Wet. Hot. Glove. Slick. Grip. Hot.

_So_ hot. I gripped her hip, urging her to take more. She slid down onto me; a moan escaping her lips.

Her entire body shuddered. "Ohhh, God. You're so warm." She adjusted a little and pressed down again until I filled her to the hilt. A 'fuck' escaped under her breath.

"You feel like your insides are on fire. You're burning up, Bella."

She lifted herself up slowly, and then moaned as she slowly seated herself again. "I am hot. You're hot. You're hot in me," she said breathlessly.

I ran my hand over her head, and she let it roll forward as she gyrated slowly on top of me. Lifting up, she would grip me as my cock slipped out of her.

She _was_ burning up. Her fingertips grasping my arm were pruned. Thunder rolled in the distance, closer than before. She could sleep through the storm; she could sleep peacefully for one night with me.

The heat, though, was coursing through me as I slid in and out of her body, and it felt delicious. Venom was flowing, filling up my mouth, and I had to swallow it back constantly. Her lips were at my jaw, licking and sucking her way up so she could bite my earlobe.

"I gotta get you out of here. You're burning up and you're turning into a prune." My voice sounded foreign, much like my body felt. But it was _so_ good. She said nothing; she just rocked on me in a way that sent new sensations of electricity pulsing through my scrotum and stomach.

"Bella. Come on, baby. I gotta get you out of here." She groaned, and I wrapped my arms around her back and stood up. She crossed her ankles around my ass and laid her head down on my shoulder as I stepped out of the hot tub.

The wind was really blowing, and a shiver coursed through her. "Oh, God, that feels good."

One of her ankles unhitched and she planted a foot on my hip. I was opening the door and walking in slowly when she leaned back a little to look at me. Her eyes had darkened and were lidded with desire. Having not slipped my cock completely out of her, she lowered herself onto me again fully.

It was enough to throw me off kilter; enough to surprise me. My toe caught the door's edge sticking up from its concrete confines, and I tripped.

I lost my balance.

She gasped.

I still had enough time to flip us around so my backside would take most of the impact, but her knees took it all the same and her other foot was still behind me when I landed.

"Motherrrrfucker!"

Bella was having a fit. She was laughing hard. "Oh, God...you fell...my knee...Peter, you fell...How the hell did you fall?"

"I fell because someone was doing a number on my dick and I wasn't quite expecting it, that's why. You alright?" She was half on and half off my body, her foot was still under me, and she was lying against my chest.

Her giggles were dying down. "I'm fine. I'm just...shocked that you fell."

She kissed my chest as she giggled, and then she planted her chin down and looked up at me. "You're a vampire, Peter," she whispered. "I've never made a vampire fall before, and there have been a few I would have liked to have laid out at one time or another." She winked and smiled at me in the dark.

How were you supposed to tell someone that you let humanity rule over your characteristics for the last nineteen years just so you could be everything she would want without feeling intimidated when it was time to make your existence known to her? The traits were always there, but they could be cast aside for great lengths of time if you trained yourself right and took the initiative to beat away the monster that dwelt within. You _could_ be human when it mattered the most.

My initial response would have been, 'I fell for you a long time ago.' I thought it through, though, for an entire second, and I still told her the truth.

"I fell for you within a heartbeat," I told her quietly.

Her eyes lit up and her smile grew more pronounced. She slowly lifted herself up, as did I, so she could get her foot out from under me. She grabbed my hand to pull me up, but I had to help her, of course.

It was a sweet thing for her to do.

I kissed her, and I bent down and wrapped my arms behind her knees and lifted her up, cradling her close as I walked us to the bedroom.

I kept my eyes on the floor in front of me. If it worked for her, it would work for me, too.

I laid her down on the bed and crawled up on top of her. Her legs parted for me and she pulled me closer. She pulled the pillow out from under her head so it wouldn't get soaked from her hair. Our bodies were still wet, and hers was still almost unbearably warm, and she sighed in relief as my skin touched hers.

I lowered my mouth to her lips. "You're getting cooler already," she said lightly. "I like you cold. I feel like I can feel you more, and you feel good."

"You'll always be warm for me," I spoke against her lips. She wrapped her arms underneath mine and tightly around my back. I heard her whisper as I dipped my tongue into her mouth.

"Not always."

She just didn't know.

I held myself up, braced on one arm, but she wasn't having any of that. She wanted me close, so I wrapped both arms under her back, angling her breasts up until they smashed into my chest. Her breath was hot and heady inside my mouth and over my face, and I could smell her arousal already on the down slide. She moaned lightly around my tongue, and when she stuck hers in my mouth, I didn't hesitate this time to let her explore.

Her legs fell further apart and she placed her feet along my calves as she lifted her hips, looking for friction. I ground into her, coating my cock while looking at the swells of her breasts. The need to touch her breasts - to kiss them and suck them and pull on her nipples - brought one of my arms out so I could put a hand between us until my mouth could find its way down.

She moaned and writhed beneath me. I loved her like this. I loved her _any_ way and _every_ way.

My cock was already seeking out the heavenly depths I liked to plunge into for its warmth and its vice-like grip. It was a place I would always call home. Home was with her - inside her soul and inside her body.

It took some wiggling around but I found my rite of passage. I was on my knees, still holding her upper body up with my arm underneath her. Her head was thrown back and she was breathing heavily. I was kissing down the column of her throat, tasting the salt on her skin, and purring against her because I was content. I was in love, and we were making love, and there wasn't a thing to think about at that moment other than her body.

Outside, the wind blew, the storm growing closer. Thunder sounded and lightning flashed in the distance.

It would be hours before I'd find out that there was a scent on that wind. A scent like no other; aged and refined leather, mixed with begonias.

I entered her slowly; her pussy slick and wet. My mouth closed around her left nipple to suck and nip gently. She cried out lightly and raised her hips to take me in - to rock with me, to be with me.

There was no hurry. There was no overwhelming need to reach the limit for either one of us. It was sensual and casual as I rocked into her, and she'd lift her hips just a little to meet me. There was no wish to reach the precipice because we both just wanted to feel the other.

I found it awe-inspiring and lovely all at the same time. It was more passionate than any other time with her, and it would only get better as we revealed more of our souls to each other. There _were_ secrets, but there was also more understanding and more compassion; more love and more heartache.

There were little moans and growls whenever one of us couldn't help but push the other for more.

Her nipples would be raw and sensitive in the morning. Her breasts were made for nuzzling, for kisses and tugs. They were a place to plant your mouth when her lips grew numb and she needed to breathe.

Her pussy would be sore, too, but she wouldn't complain. Inside, her arousal coated me for easier access, her walls stretching for me and stroking me, the heat sending pulses of electrical currents throughout my body, making me shudder with muted ecstasy above her.

The visual as I rose over her to look down between us - watching my cock pulse in and out of her, undulating and pumping quickly into her to hit that spot deep within that would make her mewl - made me want to burst. Her clit was so ready to be manipulated, and with just the slightest touch it would send her off to bask in the white light while she convulsed around me.

It was beautiful.

When she lifted her legs and planted them down on each side of me, spreading herself even wider for me, I knew she was ready. She was emotionally spent, physically and mentally altered, and she used her hips and the muscles within her to draw more of me in, to speak without speaking that her need to bask in that light was great. And my own body listened.

I propped myself up on one hand and ran a path with my fingers from her plump lips down and between the center of her breasts. Her heartbeat thudded heavily; her skin tinted pink now because her blood was flowing quickly to all the places that were being abused. She was a creature made for love and mating.

My fingers trailed over her clenched abdomen, which clenched even more with my touch. I found the tuft of hair that she had groomed for me, and I pulled on it gently before letting my fingers trace even lower to where we were joined. I caressed her swollen lips, collecting with my thumb some of her arousal that had seeped out along the junction of her thighs.

She was silently begging for me to touch her, lifting her hips in a way so she could find my fingers and lifting her head a little to look down between us to find them herself. There was desperation in her eyes and in the moan that left her throat. Her breasts heaved with every breath.

A whispered plea left her lips. "Please..." And she squeezed my cock internally with every ounce of strength she could. Her pussy clenched me and I nearly came undone, my own stomach clenching and fighting off the urge to explode because I wanted her to milk it out of me.

"Jesus..."

I barely brushed her swollen clit with my thumb. It was taut and ablaze, and she cried out loudly and incoherently with pleasure. Her entire torso bucked up before me.

A shudder ripped through me and left my throat in a loud purr of approval. I pumped into her with vigor and I pressed on her nub. She bucked and thrashed below me, her core beginning to clench, and I pinched her clit lightly between my fingers.

She flew over the edge with an intensity I had never seen before.

Her walls frantically spasmed around me with every withdrawal, and my hips moved on their own accord, pumping in and out of her at an almost furious rate. She was coming undone below me, her delirium and euphoria visible on her beautiful, gaping mouth as the quivering cry of her release hit me with all its strength.

Somewhere nearby a lightning bolt shot up from the ground, but I was blind and deaf to the sight and the sound.

Electric heat filled me and milked me for every drop I had to offer as her pussy clenched me almost painfully. My entire body was wracked by the quivers that consumed her entire frame, and her legs twitched as she came back down. I fell down on her slick, warm body. Her scent was almost too much too bear.

She grunted out a burst of air when I let my weight fall on her. I rolled us both to the side, hitching her leg up on my hip. Pulses of her orgasm still made her twitch a little, and she found the crook of my shoulder and hummed out with contentment.

I stayed inside her just a little longer; being connected to her in some way just seemed in order. Her going home in the morning was the only thing on my mind, and I was not looking forward to it.

She was still awake, but she was bordering on just giving in at any moment. It was obvious she was thinking about the same thing.

"I have to go home tomorrow," she murmured into my shoulder.

_No, you don't_. "I know."

"I don't want to go home," she said lightly, emotion breaking through.

"Then don't."

She sighed. "I have to. I have to go to work."

I was going to go to hell for pushing it. I was going to risk it all because I was a greedy son of a bitch.

"No, you don't. You could quit. You could move in with me. Sell the house, bring what you want, and just be with me."

She turned her face to look up at me. I just shook my head and closed my eyes.

"Peter."

"I just want you."

"Look at me."

I looked at her. She was smiling, gently of course. The answer was no.

"One day at a time, remember? Besides, Seth is coming in a few weeks. I can't very well be living with you when he comes, and I can't tell him he can't come now. We can talk about it then, but I don't think you'll have to do a lot of convincing."

"Shit, I forgot about that. Well, I didn't forget..."

"It just wasn't in your line of thinking right now." She reached up and pulled one of the pillows down, laying it over my arm so she could rest her head.

"Yeah...but will you think about it?" I was going to hell.

She smiled. "I will. It's not like we won't see each other again. I expect to see you all the time. And I'll spend my weekends here with you if you want me to. Except for next Sunday and Monday because you have to spend it with me. You have to clean my house."

"Your house is already clean. It's all you do. You have a variant of OCD, Bunny. It's really fuckin' depressing." I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

"Hey, you should be glad that I do. It won't be that hard for you to fly through it. I won't clean this week. I'll show _you_..." she grumbled out.

I laughed. "I'm sure you will. Speaking of hard, though..." I pushed my hips into her so she could feel my meaning. I could never tire of her body, but I knew she was spent and I knew that this time her answer would be no.

She didn't say anything for a moment, but she glowed. "No, it's too much. I'm too tired."

I was only hoping...a little.

"Get up. I'll pull back the covers."

She groaned and padded her way up on her knees, and I followed suit. We pulled the covers until we could both squeeze in and underneath. She settled in, not unlike the position in which she'd fallen asleep the last two nights - lying half on her stomach with the pillow draped over my bent arm, her face buried into my chest, and her leg thrown over mine.

Her eyes immediately shut and she hummed out, "Hmm...goodnight."

"Goodnight, Bella."

She smiled and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Rolling thunder lulled her to sleep and she was out before a minute had even passed.

There would be no leaving her tonight.

I laid there and I dreamed. I dreamed of baking her muffins every Saturday. I dreamed of watching The Deadliest Catch with her every Tuesday evening in the spring time. I thought about where to put her mother's stone, and I thought the butterfly garden would be the perfect spot so she could touch it. I fantasized about early Sunday morning blow jobs and lying down with her every night.

I thought about it all. Most of all, I thought about the end of her blessed and broken road and what it would be like to build a new one with her. A never ending one.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A **

I could immediately tell when I first woke up that I had slept for a while, and I could immediately tell that I had hardly moved during the night.

My body was pleasantly sore all over. I could smell chlorine in my hair, and I could remember why my knee was a little stiff.

I ignored everything else that popped into my mind almost simultaneously; things I knew I couldn't ignore forever. But I wasn't ready to even begin to think about all that incoherently.

Maybe I wasn't even ready to think about it at all.

My mother - her voice and her touch. There were so many times I had yearned for it since she had passed. There were so many times I had wished I could just talk to her.

I didn't want to believe it. I even tried to put it off as a manifestation of something I wanted subconsciously. It wouldn't have been the first time I had done that.

But I knew. Deep down, I knew it wasn't the same. It was real.

I was having a hard time dealing with it. A _very_ hard time. Somewhere along the line, though, I decided that it was something I could just never talk about because it really was one of those moments that I should just cherish for myself.

Because I wanted her to come back. I wanted her to talk to me again. And maybe that would happen if I just kept it to myself.

I loved Peter even more for realizing that. Maybe not that directly, but for giving me space with it.

We had discussed some things and there was a lot to ponder over. There were secrets, too, but his love outweighed all his faults exponentially.

I knew I didn't want to get up because I didn't want to go home.

I knew he wasn't in bed without even opening my eyes. The shutters were open, and I could hear it raining softly outside.

It was sure to be a cloudy day...with cloudy thoughts.

I heard the shower and realized he'd left the bathroom door open. An invitation.

I think I snoozed for a minute, but then I really woke up.

And all of a sudden it just felt...strange.

Something hung heavily in the air, and it was sweet almost. It smelled...sweet...and inviting. It was curious.

I was not alone.

I was being watched. I opened my eyes and found burgundy staring back at me. It just didn't click fast enough.

It was the face of a vampire not a foot away from mine.

The thing was, it wasn't _my_ vampire, or like any I'd ever known.

I screamed a scream that would have been capable of curling my own blood.

I would find out later that the shattering noise I heard was actually the shower door being slammed open so hard it was ripped out of its hinges. Peter would be digging pieces of flying glass out of the walls later that week.

I wasn't even out of the bed and standing on the opposite side, glued to the wall, by the time the vampire had flown back into Peter's dresser with his hands up.

I wasn't even there before I heard what was the most menacing and foreboding growl-roar combination crawl through my chest and reverberate my stopped heart. But its deep tone was familiar and it was welcomed.

He was naked. His hair was drenched and water was falling off of him because it didn't have time to trickle down in the shower. His dick hung proudly between his legs as he crouched down, ready to attack.

Later I would think about this and find it kind of funny.

I was scared shitless because Peter just had that effect, especially since I'd never seen him face off like that before.

It all transpired within a second or two.

The vampire had flown back and was standing with his hands in the air. He was scared shitless, too.

Peter was erect - no pun intended - within an instant, and the growl that was shaking the beams in the room cut off just as quickly.

"Garrett, what the _fuck_ are you doing here?!"

Peter was livid and really putting it out there. I watched a drop of water drip from the tip of his nose to the floor below.

Another difficulty made itself known at that very moment. My bladder. It was either because I was standing up or because I'd just had the life scared out of me. It was probably a combination of both. Either way, I felt a trickle right down my leg.

"Peter!?"

He was in front of me in another instant, grabbing the duvet off the bed so quickly it whipped through the air. He was covering me, and my hands flew on their own accord, grasping onto him in any way I could. He pushed me firmly behind him and kept his arm around me.

I glued myself to his back and peered around his arm at the vampire on the other side of the room.

Peter was stiff - definitely in defensive and offensive mode at the same time. He was breathing heavily, and quivers ran throughout his back. Looking at him, I could tell he was both very pissed off and a little afraid, but it wasn't for himself. He kept his eyes trained and locked on the vampire across the room.

He wasn't bad looking but he certainly deserved only one classification. Burgundy eyes framed with dark lids, both upper and lower. Dark brows that puckered, and faint lines near the corners of his eyes; crow's feet almost. A nose that twitched with one intake of his breath, straight and angular. Full lips that were pulled up into a smirk. He was tall; just as tall as Peter but not as broad or thick. He was thinner, and he looked more leonine than anything. Dark hair, almost black, and it was long and pulled back into a short ponytail. A thin face with a prominent jaw line. He had had a dark complexion in another life, and the odd pallor to his skin made him look a little chalky from across the room.

He was wearing a loose-fitting pair of dirty blue jeans, and they were frayed along the bottoms and one knee was torn. They were stained with dried blood. The blue shirt he was wearing - a long sleeve button up - was unbuttoned to his midsection. It too, was dirty, but with...dirt. His clothes were all wrinkled. He was barefooted. His feet were dirty; desert earth clung to them like dust.

Nomad.

His eyes were wide and scared, but he was also smiling a little.

"Garrett... _What the fuck are you doing here_?" Peter said forcefully. My hand was on his back and I could feel that he was holding a growl inside. He just vibrated. His entire _frame_ vibrated.

The one called Garrett whooshed a little under his breath. "Well..."

He stepped forward only once, slowly letting his hands fall from surrender down to his sides. "I stopped by to see if you wanted to share a meal perhaps, but since you've seemed to have gone to the trouble of tenderizing it, I can clearly see that isn't possible." He had a deep, rich, and velvety voice, and it had an old cadence to it.

"She's _not_ my fucking meal, Garrett, she's my fucking _mate_. And you can stop that bullshit you're spouting right now because we both know you didn't just fucking stop by. How the _fuck_ did you find me?" Peter was getting more pissed off. His words were running together, but he clearly enunciated the words that needed to be understood so he could spell it out clearly.

Garrett, however, seemed like a mischievous bastard; a scoundrel even. He flinched away from Peter's tone. His eyes softened, and he more or less decided that it was not the time to be playing games. He wavered on his feet.

He spoke softly and with caution. "Peter, calm down. I'll tell you why I'm here after you and your lady get dressed and she has a moment to collect herself." He looked away from Peter's eyes to...something...anything other than Peter. He cocked his head and looked at Peter again, smiling wryly. "You can put the _weapon_ away, friend. I mean no harm. I was just...having a little fun. I'll...um...wait in the living room."

"Yeah, you wait in the living room."

Garrett took slow, cautionary steps towards the doorway. "I'll wait in the living room, Miss." He bowed his head in gesture. When he reached the doorway, he flitted out. He was gone.

Peter flipped his body around and I was in his arms, his hands flying over my head and shoulders in a measure of comfort and worry. His aggressiveness was cast aside, but he was clearly worried. It was only then that I realized that I never really stopped reacting to the intrusion and the shock. I was shaking.

"Peter?! What the fuck?! Who is that!?"

"Shhh, calm down. He's not gonna hurt you. He's an...old friend. Jesus Christ, Bella. You scared the hell out of me."

"Why is he here!?"

He wiped away the frantic tears that had fallen to my cheeks with his thumbs. "I don't know, Bella. Pull it together, okay?"

"Pull it _together_?! I wake up and find a strange vampire not a foot away from my face and you expect me to pull it _together_?! I think I peed a little down my leg, Peter. I have to pee."

Peter held my head and kissed my forehead. I was a little beside myself. "I know. Come on, you pee and I'll get us some clothes."

He picked me up and flitted us to the bathroom. When he put me down and stood me on my own two feet, we both looked around at the...carnage. There were shards and nuggets of tempered black glass everywhere - up on the counter, all over the floor, and it was even embedded into the wall. The metal frame hung broken in pieces where the shower door used to be.

"Oh, shit. What happened?"

"I broke the damn door, that's what happened. Watch where you step. In fact, don't move. Hold on..." He used his foot to push away some broken glass in front of the toilet. "Go pee. I'll be right back." He was away from me and out the door in no time flat.

I sat down, throwing the blanket back outside the door to take care of business, and I realized that he had completely left the room when I heard him say something to Garrett in an irate voice down the hallway. I was still taking a piss when he appeared out of nowhere, broom in hand. I just didn't have it in me to care anymore.

Peter went to work, quickly sweeping the floor in front of me along with the counter top of the vanity. I walked back out into the bedroom to dig some clothes out of my bag, which was sitting on the chest at the end of the bed.

"What did you say to him out there?" I whispered, pulling out a pair of yoga pants and a red t-shirt. Peter was still in the bathroom trying to sweep it all into a pile.

"I told him not to fucking move. Garrett didn't just _find_ me, Bella. I would have smelled that fucker if he'd been hanging around Santa Fe or anywhere near it." Peter threw the broom on top of the counter top and came out to dig some clothes out of his dresser.

"What are you saying?" I asked.

"He had to have come in during the storm. I haven't seen him in twenty six years, and that was when Charlotte and I were up in the Dakotas. Garrett tends to stay around the east coast, he doesn't venture far out of his territory except when he's bored." Peter looked perplexed. Worried.

He looked at me and said, "He didn't just...find me, Bella."

That's when I realized what he was trying to say. "He can't smell you."

"Exactly."

"Could he have...heard you?"

"No. I haven't been anywhere, and I was in bed with you all night up until eight minutes before you screamed. I don't know. I didn't hear him come in at all. I was thinking about _you_. I wasn't paying attention. I'm sorry." He was pulling on a pair of blue jeans, and he opened the closet door to step inside and pull out a shirt.

"It's not your fault. Jesus Christ, couldn't he have knocked?" I asked, a little aggravated. I was. He _could_ have knocked. I still wouldn't have taken it well, but Jesus Christ.

"No. He's an asshole. But he won't hurt you, I can promise that. Garrett...doesn't like to kill women very much. At least that's the way he always operated before." Peter was waiting for me to finish pulling my pants on.

I looked at Peter pointedly. We were whispering, and I knew Peter was just humoring me. I knew that asshole out there could still probably here us, but I still whispered, "That doesn't help, Peter. He's a nomad, right? Just because..."

"I know. Nomads aren't at the top of your favorites list. But we're civilized people eaters, and look how _far_ you've come. Garrett won't hurt you because he knows you mean something to me, and playing with his food isn't what he calls...fun. He was trying to get a rise out of me and, well, he accomplished that."

I sighed. I said nothing more and turned around to grab a pair of socks out of my bag.

Peter came up behind me and ran his hand softly up my spine, wrapping his arms around me. "You ready? I'm ready. Don't get scared if I punch that bastard for scaring the piss out of you like that."

I let the dread I felt show. This day was already proving to be shitty and full of drama, and we just didn't need any more. I turned around in his arms. "Don't. Please? Don't make me worry any more than I already am. Just let it go. I'm over it."

Peter sighed and wrapped his arms around me more tightly, squeezing me. He pulled away only to lean down to kiss me real quick. "Alright. Come on, I'll make you some coffee."

I noticed he didn't completely look me in the eye, and he didn't promise anything either.

Garrett was over at Peter's bookshelves, standing straight and tall, and glossing over the books. Peter went to the other side of the island and grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it over to the other side for me to sit.

"Garrett," Peter said, turning around to make my coffee. Garrett flitted over but didn't step up to the higher level. He was being non-aggressive; more curious than anything. But he also seemed mindful. He seemed to have purpose. His eyes darted back and forth between Peter and me, smiling and bowing his head at me again remorsefully. He watched Peter with curiosity as Peter filled up the coffee pot and took out one of my muffins from the bag they were tied in and placed it on a paper plate to heat up in the microwave.

Peter glanced back at Garrett, but he also had this look on his face that told me he was hyper aware of where he was and what he was doing at all times.

"Sit down. She won't bite."

Garrett smiled wryly at me. "No, I don't suppose she would. But _you_ would, and I don't need to sit."

Peter looked back at him. "You'll sit in this house. I don't care if you need to or not. You're welcome here, but your aggressiveness and means of entry lack something to be desired. In fact, that was just plain fucked up."

Garrett looked insulted. He even scoffed. "I'm not being aggressive. I am at fault for letting my curiosity get the better of me, but curiosity has never killed this cat." He smiled mischievously at Peter.

Peter was taking my muffin out of the microwave to butter it. "Curiosity almost bit your fuckin' head off, and you need to sit down. Or is it your wish for Bella to think of you as a disrespectful man, and that your only inclinations are to frighten her and treat her like a being who's not worthy to sit with you?"

Garrett's face changed. "No, of course not." He stepped up slowly to the kitchen, pulling the other chair off a little more to the side while looking at me apologetically. "My only inclination is to not frighten you any more than I already have. I apologize, Miss, for my rather rude behavior." He sat down slowly.

It was very obvious that Peter had an ability to strike a chord within Garrett.

"It's not a problem, as long as you don't do it ever again. My name is Bella."

Garrett smiled softly and bowed his head again. "You can be rest assured that I won't. And I mean you no harm, Ms. Swan. My name is Garrett. Once upon a time I was Garrett Tenison. From Maine."

A cup of coffee and a plate with a muffin landed in front of me. Both were put down hard, and the coffee spilled a little. The noise from my cup hitting the counter top did little to drown out the growl I heard with it.

I knew then that he had caught it as well. It was evident in that growl, and it was evident from his stance. Peter's arms were stretched out, and his hands were balled into fists as he leaned over the counter top somewhat aggressively.

Realization dawned on Garrett's face. He grimaced and rolled his eyes. "Fuck," he muttered, and he muttered something else, too, but it was too low for me to hear.

"Fuck is right, friend. Now that the fucking introductions have been made, you can tell us why the fuck you are here. And you can also tell me how the fuck it is that you know Bella's last name because neither of us were the ones to give it to you. And you can tell me 'who' was right, and who 'she' is. And you better start answering right fucking now." Peter vibrated. I wrapped my hand around his wrist.

It didn't faze him at all. Peter was leveling Garrett with a stare full of anger and promise.

Garrett looked between us. The silence was too much. His eyes then drifted over to a clock on the wall. He looked between us again, settling on Peter.

He spoke softly and slowly. "I was asked as a favor, and I'm here to pass on a message."

We both just looked at him. Waiting. And I was more confused than ever.

Garrett slowly turned to look at me. He was wary but curious. "The message is for Bella."

"Me?"

"I'm supposed to tell you to turn on your phone."

There was nothing silent about the pause. Something told me to expect the worst and my body was already reacting. My heart was pumping fast and thudding loudly, like it was almost up in my head, drowning everything else out.

"What?" I asked.

"Her phone?"

Garrett looked at Peter. "I don't know who's calling. I was only told she needed to have her phone turned on by 9:16 by your clock on the wall," he answered quickly.

We both looked at the clock. It was 9:13.

Peter was just maybe a little more freaked out than I was, but he was really trying to rein in his worry and his nervousness. "Who's the message from, Garrett?"

Garrett looked between us, and he looked a little afraid. A message like that could only come from one person, and I had already figured that out. I was pretty quick, for a human.

His eyes landed on mine.

"Alice."


	16. Chapter 15 Coming Out of Nowhere

**Chapter 15. Coming Out of Nowhere.**

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

Alice.

I didn't really know what I was expecting - or dreading, for that matter - but after one tumultuous day, I didn't think anything good was going to come out of Garrett's appearance.

Or his introduction. I mean, Christ, just his appearance alone was enough to rock my already listing boat. Talk about fucked up.

But something sort of...good...happened. At least I thought it was good.

The only thing was I didn't know what to think. Or expect. I certainly wasn't expecting Garrett to utter that name, even if I had suspected it even before he said it. I wasn't expecting him to utter anyone's name. I think that's what made it so hard to deal with at first; that's what made it so disturbing.

He had a message for me. From Alice.

One would think—and maybe that's what Peter was worried about—that I was well on my way to an early grave.

Such was definitely not the case.

I wasn't drowning in dread or fear after he uttered that name, but I was surprised. I was completely shocked, in fact. I sat there for a moment just trying to figure out if this was real or not. I have questioned my sanity so many times since the day before, and it took me a second to realize that my life had never been normal since meeting the Cullens. I needed to expect the unexpected, no matter what.

There was always a reason for why I'd met them a little over four years ago. I was merely ignoring what would catch up to me eventually, in one way or another.

Alice.

I could only see one reason why Alice would send Garrett with a message for me to turn on my phone, and that was that she was going to call.

She was going to stick her nose and her sight, where she had no right - no fucking right at all - to stick it. I mean, it was a given. I had found happiness with a man who happened to be a vampire, and who was not a vegetarian.

She sure as hell wasn't contacting me at that point to renew or repair our friendship just on the whim that she thought I needed it now, more than ever.

Fuck. That.

And fuck her...and whoever else might have been involved in using Garrett to open up that door. Because if Edward was involved, then I had news for him, too. I did move on, and I was completely in love with a man named Peter. Peter, who only coddled me when I want to be coddled - when my psyche needs to be; who didn't try to keep me from the ugly facts of this world; who shows me things and taught me a little about humanity itself. Who still let me make my own decisions and respects those decisions and my opinions. I sure as hell didn't need someone who thought he was soulless yet superior to me; who would make decisions for me and not with me.

Someone could set them up side-by-side and I wouldn't even hesitate to choose who was right for me now.

I want neither the fairy tale nor the prince. I want the court jester, the shoe cobbler, the plumber, the guy who loved the Cornelia Marie and who thought Lady GaGa sucked. I wanted the man who was afraid on the inside, but not afraid to show it. I wanted the man who was not afraid to say what it was that he wanted. I wanted the tough son of a bitch who stood by my side, who wasn't afraid to cry or admit that he did at times, weakened by both life and its trials...and by love. I wanted the man who would never run away from me.

Peter's world was always a part of mine. And he had never forgotten that he was once human. Hell, in a way, he still thought he _was_ human. He had made mistakes and learned from them. And that made him perfect.

Alice.

I always needed her. I always needed her friendship. I always craved it. And when life and the mythical hit me hard, maybe I needed her.

God, how I craved her friendship when Edward left me. God, how I needed it - and them - when Victoria was running around Forks. I yearned for it so badly when things with Jake ended. I had needed my friend. I had needed the one who used to call me 'sister'.

I did have Leah. I had her for only a short moment in time and I would never forget that.

And when my mother died. My mother.

But there had been nothing. No contact. No phone calls. No letters. No messages sent via wary and formidable human drinkers who looked like they wanted in on the dirt. Because this shit here was far from boring.

Alice.

I felt nothing but anger and bitterness when he uttered that name. And I sat there and boiled for a minute before I finally bubbled over. Peter, however, was frozen on the spot and looking at Garrett like he was in complete shock. He didn't so much as take a breath. And Garrett just stared between us, waiting.

All I could see was red.

I looked at the clock. 9:14.

"By 9:16, Garrett, is that what she said?" I asked.

He looked at me with caution. "Yes."

He really was a good-looking man, but he was dirty. His looks, however, didn't take away from the fact that he was a formidable and quite scary-looking vampire. His eyes held age, both human and timeless. They weren't wide and round; they were those of a killer. But there was kindness in them. I don't know why I thought that; it was just a feeling.

I took a huge bite of my muffin and stood up to go fetch my phone out of Peter's bedroom. I was just leaving the kitchen when Peter finally snapped out of his little detached stupor.

He grabbed my upper arm and spun me around, pulling me closer. "Bella?"

It was fear I saw in his eyes, and his face was drawn and tight. My mouth was full, but I answered anyways. "What?"

"What are you doing?" he said rather tightly.

I finished chewing and swallowed my muffin.

"I'm going to get my phone. If Alice wants to call me now, the least I can do is be on the other end to answer. In fact, it's the only thing I'm going to do. I mean, she's calling me, right? She's calling me for what? To say, 'Hi, Bella! I missed you!' No, I highly doubt that. If she missed me, she would have called when Edward left to see how I was coping. She would have told me that she'd had to choose him because he was her brother, and that she was sorry. If she cared about me, she would have called to tell me they were on their way back to Forks when Laurent and Victoria tried to kill me. If she wanted to be the half-assed best friend she claimed to be, she would have been there for me when Jacob threw me away like a piece of fucking garbage! If she loved me, she would have been there when my mother died. No, fuck that. The only reason I can see as to why she would make contact now is that she's seen my future, and it's with you, and she, and whoever else is involved, is sticking her nose where it doesn't fucking belong! So, I'm going to get my phone. And I'm going to wait for her to call. And I'm going to tell her to _fuck_ off."

Peter's face was ever changing while I told him what I was thinking and what my intentions were. There was shock; disbelief; worry, of course; compassion; and a little something else that I couldn't describe. But it all said to me that I would get no argument out of him. Angry tears were rolling down my face, and I didn't care that Garrett could see. I didn't care at all.

Peter looked at me rather seriously. "Are you sure that's what you wanna do?"

"I don't see any other reason, do you? I mean, what, it's been almost four years? She all but held his fucking hand to show him where your door was. What do you think, Garrett?" I looked over at Garrett.

He was wide-eyed.

His eyes bugged out of his head. He held his hands up like he wanted no part of this. "I always go with my first instinct. Worry about the consequences later."

"Exactly. So, relax, Peter. I'm all over this."

Peter looked over at Garrett. He was shaking again. He was pissed off. "You know more than you're saying, goddammit. You don't do anyone's bidding without more than the simple goddamn explanation you've given to us. There's more to tell, isn't there!?"

Garrett gave him a look of caution. "There is, but it's 9:15. If you want to take that phone call, I suggest getting that phone." He said nothing else, but he definitely knew more than he was letting on.

You couldn't trust those fuckers to save your life. Maybe to kill you, or suck your blood...

I pulled my arm out of Peter's grasp, and he let go rather reluctantly. I moved down the hallway and quickly made my way into the bedroom to grab my phone off the dresser. Peter did not follow; he was waiting near the kitchen as I made my way back, and he was looking at the wall with worry.

Or maybe it was more than worry. The truth was he looked pissed off more than anything else, and just maybe he was thinking about hitting that wall.

It was only when his eyes snapped up that I noticed they had turned black at some point. Pitch black. He was angry, maybe even furious. His features softened, though. I grabbed his hand as I turned my phone on and we stepped back into the kitchen. I watched the display come to life. It was still 9:15.

"When did you turn it off?" Peter asked, watching with me.

"The night we went to Cliff's. I only had two bars left. I didn't charge it beforehand."

My message indicator came on. There were thirteen messages, and the time on the phone was now 9:16.

"Jesus, who the hell's been calling you?" Peter grabbed some Kleenex from the box sitting on the counter to wipe my face and to silently tell me to blow.

I had a thought. I had a few, actually, about how long I'd been disconnected from the outside world. But before I could voice it, the phone started to sing. Just a basic ringtone, really, for non-programmed numbers. We both looked at the display.

The silence - the overwhelming feeling of dread - came back to me in an instant. I think Peter shared some of it because he tensed, and I thought I heard him growl low and deep. The fact that my gut dropped was another indicator as we looked at the display.

505 area code.

Santa Fe.

I looked at Garrett. He stared back at me with concern.

Two rings.

"Prefix is the north side of town. Want me to answer it?" Peter said.

"I know. And no," I said thickly. I hit the button on the third ring and put the phone up to my ear.

"Hello."

"_Hi, can I talk to Isabella Swan, please?"_

It was a voice I did not recognize. It was a woman's voice, but it certainly didn't belong to Alice.

"This is her..." I said, my tone automatically relaxing.

"_Ms. Swan, this is Keri. I'm a desk clerk down at St Vincent's Regional ER. I'm calling for your friend, Deborah Conroy, who wanted you contacted. She was involved in a multi-vehicle crash a short time ago and she'd like you to come down."_

It was not what I was expecting.

"Ohhh, God. Is she okay?!" I looked frantically at Peter. It wasn't what he was expecting, either, because he certainly looked worried. His arms flew around my waist to hold me and he leaned in closer to listen.

"_She's awake and coherent, and she will be released, but I'm afraid I can't give you any other information other than that." _

Panic and worry set in; it was automatic. Real life - the life I had been living up until this weekend - came back with a force.

"Okay. Okay, um..."

"Tell her you're on your way."

I looked up at Peter. He did not hesitate. When I looked at Garrett, he had a perplexed look on his face.

"I'm on my way."

"_Just come to the ER desk and tell them who you're here for when you get here."_

"Okay. Thank you." I hung up. Peter pulled my chin up to look at him and to soothe my frazzled nerves.

"Go get your shoes and try to relax a little. If it was bad, she wouldn't be getting released. And if they're releasing her, she probably needs a ride home. You..." he looked at Garrett, "You're fucking going, too. You've got some explaining to do." The hard inflection in Peter's voice left no room for negotiation.

Garrett looked at him, surprised. "You want me to go to a...hospital? For Christ's sake, man." he scoffed, laughing a little. "Are you going to line them up for me, too, brother? Besides, I can't very well go out in public looking like this! Not to mention you're asking me to expose myself to another human. One is enough, thank you very much. I'll just wait here."

Peter growled low and fierce. "We'll wait in the truck while Bella goes in to collect Debbie, who already knows we exist. You're fucking going, Garrett. Debbie is Bella's best friend. Get in my closet and find something to wear, and you better be fucking ready within the next two minutes. I'm itching to tear some motherfucker's head off right now, and it might as well be yours."

He was itching to tear some motherfucker's head off. It was easy to see - he was vibrating and shaking with anger. A restrained and powerful energy was pouring out of him and my body was soaking it up. His body was humming to me, like it was luring me in. His nostrils were flaring in a threatening manner, and it was obvious he had no intention of letting Garrett out of his sight until he got some answers.

I couldn't very well say I felt numb, but I was definitely rattled and dully confounded.

I didn't know what to think.

I was very worried about Debbie; she was essentially my best friend. I cared about her. I loved her. She was the one who was there for me when my mother died, and I only realized recently that perhaps I pushed her away when I could have leaned on her more. The truth was she had always been there, pulling me out of momentary funks by distracting me, keeping me focused on something else, and never asking any questions.

I didn't know how to feel. I didn't know what to think about Alice's message. The question, though, remained - why did she choose now to make herself known?

She was still watching me. She was still watching over my life.

I didn't know what it meant or why it was important for me to take that phone call. I guess the big question was, 'Why now?' Why not when Victoria came back to Forks? Why not interfere when I was hanging around wolves? Or when I was loving one of them?

Was she doing Edward's bidding or her own? Was there some underlying reason why she was passing messages through Garrett? What...?

Fuck.

Garrett was looking at Peter; he was almost glaring, in fact. He was weighing his options, I suppose - fight or acquiesce to Peter's demands. It seemed like he didn't like to be told what to do, and there was definitely a silent standoff occurring right before my eyes.

For Peter, there was no negotiation. I think he wanted answers just as badly as I did, and Garrett possibly had a few to provide. In fact, he looked like he had more than a few. It was just a sense I picked up.

It was a silence full of tension and anticipated violence, and my heart thudded loudly in my ears. Peter's eyes were black and his body still radiated that anger he was desperately trying to keep locked inside.

His plea, however, was heartfelt. "Garrett, please. If you won't do it for me, do it for Bella. We need answers. She doesn't deserve this."

Garrett melted immediately and with compassion. He sighed and paused, looking back and forth between us before finally settling his eyes on Peter. "You do love her. You fell in love with a human," he said, throwing what I thought was an apologetic glance my way.

"I do. I love her more than anything," Peter told him with no hesitation at all.

Garrett sighed again and relaxed somewhat in his chair. He nodded. "Alright. I already know she doesn't deserve this; Alice told me that much in so many words. Quite a few, actually. I've missed you, Peter, and since you all but completely disappeared from the world I'm more than curious as to what you've been up to. So, I'll go with you. But don't think you'll get a bite off if you get pissed off and decide to go for it because you might very well try to bite off more than you can chew."

Peter nodded at him. "Thank you, but I think you know now that I'll fight to the death if anyone fucks with her."

Garrett nodded and his eyes turned to slits, darkening a little. "I think you know me well enough to know that your woman is safe with me. Besides, you only stand half a chance. I'm still better than you." Garrett smiled at Peter wryly.

"I've got plenty of experience under my belt. I think you underestimate me," Peter said, growling a little under his breath.

Jesus Christ.

"Garrett, thank you. But, for Christ's sake, can we go already? The two of you can pull your dicks out and measure the fuckers for all I care while I go talk to Deb and try to talk her into riding home with two bloodsucking assholes who want to have a pissing contest. Save your bullshit for later."

I pulled myself out of Peter's grasp and headed towards the bedroom. I could feel both sets of eyes on my back, and I heard Garrett's chair move.

"Why do I get the feeling her bite would actually hurt?" Garrett asked.

"Because she has a way with words and she fights back when she's fucked with. She works at a bar. Plus, her daddy's a cop. She's got a hell of a throwing arm, too," Peter said, following me down the hallway.

I heard Garrett humph. "I could use a drink."

Peter sighed and breathed out. "So could I."

Once I grabbed my tennis shoes out of my bag, I headed to the living room to put them on and wait for Garrett and Peter; who stayed behind so he could rustle up some clothes for Garrett. It was just a matter of seconds before Peter came back into the living room. He sat down beside me and put his own socks and hikers on while looking worried and somber.

"Garrett's changing. I gave him a washcloth and showed him where the sink was so he could wash the dust off a little. He won't be long."

A brief thought entered my mind, so I went ahead and voiced it. "Um...will he be okay, even waiting with you in the car? I mean, it is a hospital. There's probably...blood everywhere. His eyes are dark."

Peter nodded. "Yeah, he'll be fine. He always looks like that. He's a tough son of a bitch and he is a killer, but he does respect human life to an extent. Garrett's been around a while. Granted, I probably still have better control than he does, but if it gets bad for him I'll get him out of there and leave you the truck."

I thought about that. "Why not just stay here? I know St. Vincent's. I can go by myself."

I already had an idea what his answer would be; it was actually a collection of reasons, and maybe only one outweighed the others.

Or maybe they weighed the same.

He put his elbows on his knees and he interlocked his fingers, resting his cheek on his hands. He sighed and looked at me with concern. "Because you need answers just as well as I do." He paused. "Not only that, but there's no way in hell I'm leaving you alone for one second until we get those answers."

I looked at him and tried to figure out just what he was thinking because the look he was giving me was a little wary. "You're not thinking that Alice or...anyone else, for that matter...would try anything, do you? Because I don't. Vampire or not, I'm not afraid to tell her to butt the fuck out of our business. They lost that right a long time ago."

Peter smiled and shook his head. "No, it's nothing like that. But we don't know, either. We don't know what the motivations are, and until we do, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Besides, I'm not ready to say goodbye to you yet, even if it isn't goodbye. Please don't fight me on this, Bella."

Garrett flitted into the room. Peter didn't need to worry, the truth was I didn't want to be alone at all.

I wasn't afraid for my physical welfare; I was afraid because if Alice was watching, then maybe so was Edward. And just maybe he or she - or the both of them - felt the need to look out for my 'best interests'.

And fuck that. I was fully capable of making my own goddamn decisions and loving who I wanted to love.

It was also safe to say that I didn't want to say 'goodbye' just yet either.

I mouthed the words to him. "I won't."

"Thank you," he mouthed. He looked up to appraise Garrett.

Garrett was wearing a pair of Peter's blue jeans and a dark red thermal undershirt, which was tucked in loosely. The jeans were a little big on him since he was thinner, and the top hung off his arms a little bit. He had washed and combed his hair a little, resetting it in another short pony tail. He was also wearing a black pair of Peter's hikers.

He was tapping his feet, looking at them, and then he smiled wryly at Peter. "Your feet are too big."

"Big feet, big dick. They'll do for now. Let's go." Peter stood up, grabbing my hand to pull me up off the sofa. Garrett followed behind.

"You know, you could have three sovereign and independent states named after that monstrosity - two for your balls and one for the shaft on that fucker. I hope to never see you naked again," Garrett said with a little humor injected in his tone.

That was kind of funny.

I looked behind me as we walked to the entryway, and I smiled at Garrett. I didn't trust him - there was no doubt he had a few secrets of his own that needed to be revealed - but there was something in his eyes that made him honest.

"But that's something you can appreciate, Garrett - free reign and all that. And my dick does reign, doesn't it, Bunny?" Peter squeezed my hand. Twice.

For the love of God...

"Keep me out of it or I'll slap an embargo on your dick and you'll be left jerking off in the..." I let my words trail off because I had a thought. "Wait a minute..." I jerked his hand and planted my feet. "When you were in the shower, _why_ didn't you hear Garrett come in?"

Garrett could see my meaning behind asking that.

"Oh, that's rich," he said and he laughed boisterously as he walked to the other side of Peter's truck. We were in the garage.

I should have known better than to put Peter on the spot like that, but the cocky bastard sometimes needs to be taken down a level. But just like an asshole, he turned it around.

"Yeah, okay. So I was rubbing one off." Peter opened my door and moved in a little closer, running his hand down my ass and right between my legs, rubbing me. A pleasant chill ran down my spine but it was completely not the time for him to be doing this.

He spoke softly in my ear. "I told you I'm always thinking about you. I was also waiting for you to come in and finish the job for me, but then..."

Garrett was getting in the back - on Peter's side - and he was laughing quietly. I moved away from Peter, heat filling my face, and I planted my foot on the rail and climbed in. Peter pulled my seat belt out, and when I grabbed it he didn't let go.

I looked at him. He mouthed the words silently, "Forgive me?" And he was honestly looking for forgiveness. It was in his eyes and in his face.

He was unbelievable. There were so many things wrong and right about that, but my embarrassment and the mental pictures I got from his admission of truth muted any pissed off reaction I should have had. And it showed, I'm sure.

He had been jacking off to the thought of me. It was a compliment. Oh, how I loved him.

I shook my head at him and gave him an evil look. I mouthed the only word I could think of at that point.

"Jerk."

He smiled debonair-like, and then backed up and shut my door.

It was a good twenty minute drive to the hospital from Peter's, and once he was in his seat and pulling out of the garage, things got serious again very quickly.

"Alright, Garrett. Talk."

Garrett, however, seemed to be expecting it. "I will. But what I have to say is for Bella, and Bella alone."

I didn't quite get that, so I turned a little in my seat so I could look at him. I saw Peter glance through the rear view mirror at him.

Garrett was different. Or maybe it was because I had just grown so accustomed to Peter. He sat in that back seat, tall and stiff, yet he was relaxed at the same time. The fact was Garrett looked inhuman, and in that fact there was another - he was a nomad. His movements were twitchy and concise. And rare. He was studying the lever on the door handle that powered the window, and he pushed it and jumped a little when the window rolled down halfway. He rolled it back up.

I had to wonder when he had last been in a car. Or if he had ever been.

Garrett looked at me, a little indifference showing through. "Bella, I like to think of myself as fair. If someone asks me to do something for them, I'll consider it. But I'll damn well have all the facts before I'll do it. And I'll only do it if there's something in it for me. Keep in mind that I'm not necessarily talking about the acquirement or appropriation of physical or monetary gain; I'm talking about ideals, and maybe even those that promote free will."

"He's trying to tell you he's a diehard patriot and he thinks that all ruling governments over countries and nations are all SNAFU. Garrett's into the big love." Peter looked over at me, smiling brightly.

Garrett reached up and shoved Peter's head a little. He was laughing. "Shut up, Peter."

I waited for his laughter to die down. That was kind of funny. "What are you trying to tell me, Garrett?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know, Bella. When Alice asked me to deliver that message to you, I saw nothing but concern for a...non-conventional friend. A human. I believed her intentions were honest, but now...I'm not entirely too sure."

I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded.

He looked at me softly. "Bella, Alice gave me a short version of how she and the family came to know you and what happened between you and Edward. To say that I was shocked would be a gross understatement. Alice's intention - the one she passed to me - was that she needed me to pass this message to you because she promised her brother she would not interfere in your life. She told me that since she has held true to her promise and your relationship with her is...strained, I have no doubt that after what I've witnessed from you, that that much is true."

I nodded at him, and my bitterness made itself known. "You're right."

"So, it leaves to question just what her true intentions are. And I don't know. I think she's finally decided that maybe she needs to do what's best for her. And maybe you." he added, glancing over at Peter.

"That's just it, Garrett. Alice has no say in my life or the decisions I make. I know what's right for me, but go on..."

Garrett nodded solemnly and he leaned forward. "I was told that I had to tell you to turn on your phone before 9:16 because the outcome - if it wasn't turned on - would be devastating to both you and the other party involved - who I now know is your best friend, Debbie. I wasn't given the details of what it would mean if I failed in my course, or what that 'other' future was; but I can tell you that her request was made in desperation, and maybe - if she had carried it out herself - maybe your behavior towards her might have swayed you differently. Her involvement might have created a different outcome - one that could have been just as equally devastating. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I thought about it for a second or two. I had been away from Alice's gift for so long that maybe I was forgetting how it worked, and that it was subjective.

"You're saying...there's a reason I had to take that call, no matter what. Because every other option would have been detrimental to everyone involved. Because I might have ignored it just to spite her."

Garrett shrugged his shoulders. "Possibly. You really won't know now unless she shows up to explain herself. And maybe there's something in it for her, as well. Maybe...you feel a little less animosity towards your old friend because you know now that she was trying to help you and the one you care about now."

"I never _stopped_ caring for Alice. That's my problem, Garrett."

"I can see that." He smiled gently. "Which begs the question that by my passing this message on to you, could she or would she invent or manifest a reason for you to be grateful towards her? Could you trust her again? And could Peter?" He looked away and into the mirror to Peter, who was staring at him. He looked back at me as I sat there thinking, and he said, "But I don't believe she would do that. I believe she was telling the truth."

"Why?" I asked.

He smiled gently again. "Because I have another message for you, Bella. For you and Peter."

Peter braked hard before he reached the on-ramp for the freeway, and he made a right onto a road heading northeast.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He spoke quietly, and he sounded detached - like he was thinking about something. "Look at the freeway. It's backed up. Probably a wreck, or something."

He looked extremely worried. He was right - it was backed up. Not just heading north, but south as well. The rain was coming down hard. He resumed staring at Garrett through the rear view mirror. He was thinking hard about something.

I looked back at Garrett. "What's the other message?"

"She wants you to know...that she's not seen everything. But she knows you're happy - that the both of you are - and she's happy for the both of you. She knows that this is difficult for you, but she still loves you. And she hopes to see you again someday in the future because she has missed her friend," he looked in the mirror at Peter, "and her husband has always missed his brother."

I sat forward, looking away from Garrett because the emotion of it all was finally starting to hit me full force.

I wasn't the only one.

When I looked over at Peter, he had shifted in his seat. His elbow was up on the ledge of the door - by the window - and his hand was up at his mouth. He was rubbing his fingers back and forth inside his palm, his hand across his lips, looking straight ahead. His eyes were full of unshed emotion.

It was silent for a moment or two.

Garrett had given me a lot to think about, but it was so hard to do without the bitterness I harbored towards Alice and the rest of the family.

Maybe I was holding onto something that was better left forgotten. But I just couldn't forget. Maybe if I did, though, it would open the door for Alice a little. But was that the right thing to do if the reasons behind her motivations were false? If anything, they would cause a bigger rift.

It wasn't a decision I could easily make - and more importantly, it might not have been easily carried out.

Maybe we were all hurting. The man next to me seemed to be hurting just as much as I was. It made me wonder how Jasper felt. And Alice. Maybe it would just take time, or maybe it wouldn't happen at all.

My priorities wouldn't change, though. My relationship with Peter was priority number one and I didn't see that changing anytime soon. We needed to work on our relationship before we could possibly rectify others. Because it was new, and our feelings for each other were intense and raw. Plus, maybe we had some problems and there were questions and truths still to be answered and discovered. Even for ourselves.

I knew that much. But it was between us and no one else.

Peter cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "Garrett...where were you when they found you?"

Garrett had sat back in his seat. "I was outside of Roanoke, Virginia four days ago, getting ready to take a dip in the river. Alice came alone, Peter."

"She came alone?" Peter asked, looking in the mirror at Garrett.

"Yes. Jasper wasn't too far away, though, according to Alice. He was down at Claytor Lake, hunting and looking at a possible real-estate opportunity. It seems he's going green - buying up large chunks of land for the purpose of conservatory efforts...while he slaughters a portion of the wildlife population." Garrett smiled and chuckled a little under his breath. "They live up near Marathon, Ontario. They've been there for almost three years now. The others have moved around more frequently, according to Alice. They're up in Alaska right now, with that other coven of vegetarians."

"The Denali's," Peter said.

"Yes," Garrett answered.

There was a surreal feeling that overcame me - hearing where they were all at - but it wasn't one where I wanted to jump on a plane and go find Alice, or anyone else for that matter.

It also brought the question to mind as to why Alice and Jasper weren't with the rest of the family. Peter and I both looked at each other. I think we were both thinking about the same thing.

Peter voiced it. "Did she say why they weren't with the rest of the family?"

Garrett didn't answer straight away. "No, only that they were taking some time for themselves." There was solemnity in his voice.

I got the feeling he knew more than he was saying.

It was quiet again for a moment or two. I thought about Alice and every scenario I could think of as to why she chose now to get involved.

I still couldn't help but think that Edward had something to do with it. I had news for them both if that was the case. I loved Peter, and there wasn't anything that could sway me from him.

When I looked over a Peter at one point, I had to wonder if just maybe he was thinking about Jasper. His face was hard...but he looked sad all the same.

"Bella," Garrett said, and I turned around to look at him.

He leaned forward in his seat, and he was smiling. "The stories I heard from Alice about you and Edward - and you and the family - they were shocking, to say the least. There were things that you said back at the house that make me curious, and it seems you've lived an...adventurous life. I would love to hear your story sometime. And I'll swear to you now that I'm a man of honor, and I will never hurt you or yours."

His request was odd, but not as disconcerting as I might have once found it. There was honesty in his eyes.

"My story isn't as exciting as you think it is, Garrett. In fact, it's kind of boring. And sad."

Peter shook off whatever it was he was thinking and feeling. "Bella's right, Garrett. She is boring, but she has a knack for finding trouble. She does have some fucked up OCD, though, and I find it quite stimulating," Peter mimicked, using the eloquent dialect that Garrett used. It was almost dead on.

I slapped Peter on his arm, throwing him a dirty look. "Asshole."

I noticed he gave me a look that screamed we would talk about this all later - when no one was around.

Garrett was chuckling under his breath when I looked back at him. "How can you be in love with that cocky bastard?"

"Oh, I don't love him. I'm just using him for sex."

Peter tore his hand away from mine, grabbed my knee, and squeezed me, giving me a horse bite. When I was ready to squeal, he let go.

Garrett was smiling when I turned back to him. "Regardless if your story is boring, I would still love to hear it. And, in return, maybe I can offer you an unbiased opinion if you so desire it." He threw his head over, motioning to Peter. "And my loyalty. I would like to be your...friend, Bella."

It made me smile. I heard Peter mutter, "Told you he was into the big love." I looked at him and he was grinning somewhat.

I looked back at Garrett. "Maybe. If you don't eat me. Whether you believe it or not, I have some serious reservations about hanging out with red-eyed vampires. And I don't trust you, Garrett."

Garrett smiled. "I understand that, probably better than you think. But I promise to never eat you or startle you ever again. I am truly sorry about that. Friends?" He held his hand out.

But I did trust him somewhat. He seemed fair, and whether I liked it or not, he was now in the middle of this because Alice had put him there. I wasn't picking up any devious intentions from him. He was honest and forthcoming, even if it was a little slow. I tentatively put my hand in his, and he closed his fingers around it gently but firmly, shaking it once and smiling brightly. His hand was very cold and there was strength there.

"You gonna stay around then?" Peter asked. Garrett let go of my hand and I turned around.

"I will. You've both failed to ask me what I'm supposed to be getting in return for delivering Alice's message."

I merely looked behind me as Peter looked at him through the rear view mirror. "What's that?" Peter asked.

"I was told that I just might find something I want while I was here. Something I've wanted for a long time." Garrett was looking out the side window through the falling rain at a neighborhood as it flew by.

"What do you want?" Peter asked.

Garrett chuckled. "I haven't a fucking clue. Something I want that's unrealized, I guess. Why not pass on a harmless message to discover what it is that I'm missing, if anything? Only...the message wasn't so harmless." He bowed his head once and then resumed looking out the window.

I looked at Peter, who just shrugged his shoulders at me. "You can stay with me for as long as you want." Peter looked at him through the mirror, a little seriously. "And you'll hunt with me. My practices have somewhat changed since you've seen me last."

Garrett looked at Peter, lifting his eyebrows. "Now I'm a little curious."

The rest of the ride to the hospital consisted of Peter telling Garrett about his hunting techniques, and an informational system that was set up on Peter's home computer, where he had mapped out and coordinated offenders of every type for the Western and Southwestern United States, including the Central Plains.

It was news to me. Peter had the next five years worth of kills he would need to make all on one great, big, goddamn list. And if a special case came along -which it did- then all he had to do was a little rearranging on his Excel spreadsheet.

I just sat there in a goddamn daze.

They also talked about buying Garrett some clothes that fit, along with anything else he desired or needed.

Peter for the most part seemed happy that Garrett was going to stay, but I think he was worried about whether he could trust him completely. It was just a feeling I picked up, but I didn't think it had anything to do with the vampire in Garrett; it was more that he wasn't sure whether or not he could trust him regarding what we discovered about Alice and the rest of the family. If he was thinking what I was, then he was worried that there might have been some underlying deception going on.

I also thought it could have been that he was just not familiar with having someone else around; someone who brought back memories...and the past.

While they talked, I checked the messages on my voice mail. One was from work, asking me if I could come in to cover for Mandy who must have called in on Saturday.

The other twelve were from Debbie herself, telling me to call her. Each one grew more intense. She was worried and mad as hell because I hadn't been home and I hadn't called her.

The last message said that today she could officially file a missing persons report and my ass better be calling. She had suspected that my previous encounter had something to do with it, and I knew then she was talking about Peter.

I was in deep shit.

Peter and Garrett were both quiet as the last few messages played out. Peter was looking at me warily when I looked at him.

"She has a lovely voice," Garrett said from the back.

"I think you're in deep shit," Peter said.

"I know," I said, aggravated.

There was a large canopy over part of the circle drive by the ER entrance, and Peter pulled up underneath it to drop me off.

"Bella, if she has any reservations at all about us driving her home, call me. We'll leave the truck and we'll find our way back to your house," Peter said.

"Alright, but you have to give me some time. I've got to explain some of this to her." He had grabbed my arm to pull me over. He was looking for a kiss and I gave him one.

"We'll wait. Don't let her tear you up too bad," he said, smiling. I smiled back and mouthed the words 'love you' to him, only to watch him smile and mouth back 'I know'. I opened the door and got out.

The smell of antiseptic and puke immediately assaulted me as I walked in. I had to walk around the coned-in area where someone had lost their stomach contents in front of the ER desk in order to ask for Debbie. The waiting room off to the side was filled with people, more than half of whom had masks over their faces - swine flu candidates, more than likely.

The clerk behind the counter gave me directions to Debbie's room - room fourteen - and hit the buzzer to open the door. When I reached her room, the door was open, and I walked slowly inside.

She was lying on the stretcher - the head end propped up all the way - and she was looking out the window. She was in a pair of black sweat pants and one of those blue scrub paper tops. I could tell that she had at least a fat lip. She was holding an ice pack in her left hand. She turned her head to look at me, and it took her a second.

There was a huge ass knot on the left side of her forehead, along with a line of stitches. She had an ice pack on her left knee, and I could tell that her entire face was puffy as I got closer to her.

But the glare - and the relief - was more than evident.

"Bella, where in the hell have you been?"

***P*E*T*E*R***

I was itching. Definitely itching. Venom flowed freely out of my gland, and at one point I could have sworn that I was drowning in the shit.

Swallowing wasn't helping much. It only helped when I needed to talk, so the majority of time I just let it flow down my throat. My body, however, welcomed it. It craved it - and the more, the better.

Energy, raw and nearly uncontrollable, spiked throughout my body - through my spine, into my legs, and throughout my arms. Strength wormed its way through my fingertips and into my toes, looking for a place it could release itself from the confines it was trapped in.

It took a great deal of concentration to not snap the steering wheel or put the gas pedal through the goddamn floorboard.

Garrett knew it, too. Old people know _everything_.

That son of a bitch overstepped his bounds by entering my house and scaring Bella like he did. And that little fiasco could have cost me my dick had I not been listening to her heart. It was only a moment for her, but long enough for me to figure out that something had gone incredibly wrong by the time she actually woke up.

And I let go of my dick at just the right time.

I really was rubbing one off when Bella screamed, but I had paused when her heart had spiked. I had given my mind over to the thought of Bella - to her heartbeat and her pussy.

I was in my own little personal fantasy, imagining her walking in and wrapping her little hand around my cock, pumping me while I groped her breasts and tweaked her nipples; getting her ready so I could put her up against the shower wall and fuck her hard; pulling out of her and listening to her protests while I bent down to suck on her, finger her pussy—and her tight little ass—and getting her worked up real nice. Making her come...twice. Only to stand up and put her face first against the wall to fuck her again. A morning she would never forget.

Something she could think about all day. Something she could put her mind on when she was at work, when I was missing and worrying about her the most, and maybe she was missing me, too.

Something we could repeat if she wanted to when I showed up at her house when she got home...because there was no way in hell I could stand to be separated from her now.

But things didn't go according to plan, or fantasy. And I was really fucking pissed.

I was pissed off for many reasons, but one was because a 4'11" pixie by the name of Alice was putting the mindfuck on Bella and I.

So, I was itching. Itching badly. And it didn't matter who it was, but some fucker was going to end up dying that day. And since it couldn't be Garrett - since he and my woman were now buddy buddy - it was definitely going to be Delasantos.

That monster - that thing inside of me that I locked away so many years ago - was knocking on the goddamn door he was locked behind, and he wanted to come out to play. My hand was wrapped around the doorknob.

Garrett had one more message to pass on, and that message just might kill him.

The thought occurred many times that maybe Alice might have been able to see some of the appropriations made to acquire Bella. Because if she could see Bella, then just maybe she could see me. But I always thought that maybe with the powers above, maybe she couldn't.

If Edward couldn't read my mind, then maybe Alice couldn't see me.

I knew then that definitely wasn't the case. But I didn't know just how much she had seen either. I didn't know...but I was expecting the worst.

Garrett, who was crawling into the front seat from the back as I tried to find a parking spot, had the answer I was looking for.

The hints he gave me were subtle.

It had been three minutes since Garrett had relayed his first message, and our answer was found three minutes later. Three different scenarios were presented to Bella on how the course of the future could have been altered. There were three things that Alice wanted to pass on to Bella in the second message - a message that was intended for us both, and one that would strike a chord within the two of us.

Three messages - one for Bella, one for the both of us, and one for me alone.

Garrett was a crafty and manipulative bastard, and he knew that what Bella wouldn't pick up, I surely would. And while the messages themselves were genuine, the intention behind them may not have been. He was putting the doubt out there - a doubt that Bella would embrace because there was a reason why Alice was making contact now. And it had everything to do with me. It would conflict Bella, but it would also give her something to think about, which was maybe that she did care and miss her after all.

And Bella missed her, too. She could deny it until she was red in the face, but Alice was the first person she could call her best friend, and too many times she had needed her.

Garrett could see that too. The bitterness and the anger that Bella felt towards Alice couldn't be denied. And as beautiful as it was to see her take a stance for herself - and for me - inside it was hurting her and making her question her resolve to tell Alice to fuck off and mind her own business. It made her question her reasons for holding onto her anger and bitterness. But she had every reason to feel the way she did.

But Alice...Alice's decision to not interfere in Bella's life, I was sure was just as hard. She loved Bella just as much as Bella loved her. I believed that. But she still chose not to be a part of her life because she 'owed' it to Edward.

Which is why I was questioning Alice's intentions, and why I thought Bella was, too. Because there was no way to know to what lengths Alice would go to renew that friendship.

Even if it involved ratting me out. If she knew.

I would surely die either way. Bella would know and she'd leave me - if I could let her. And that would force my hand to open that door. I would rage and I would put Alice in my sight, and that would force Jasper's hand to turn his own proverbial knob.

There would be no winners in that scenario, only losers and devastation. I would kill to keep her, it didn't matter who was involved. And I just might have died for even thinking it, but it was there all the same.

There were no fucking parking spots in the ER lot, so I had to park in the next lot over. Garrett was in the seat next to me, just waiting, and grinning a little because he had nothing to fucking worry about.

Garrett, of course, probably had no reservations at all about carrying out Alice's request. It got him involved in something extraordinary; it gave him a purpose. And when you've spent the last two hundred and thirty-three years living his existence, anything with a purpose or with a break in the monotony would be welcome and really fucking exciting.

He had wormed himself right into the middle of this, and he didn't even have to put a lot of effort into it. He had Bella wrapped around his little finger in less than thirty minutes.

It had taken me three or four days. He was a suave motherfucker - I had to give him that much.

"You've sat there for the last twenty-two seconds contemplating and aggravating over that question you want to ask. Are you dreading the answer?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, I'd say so."

He sighed long and deep. His voice spoke reminiscently. "It's...strange and difficult at the same time, seeing you with someone else. You had my sympathies sixteen years ago when I first heard. You have them now. Charlotte was a wonderful girl."

"She is, but she's a pain in my ass."

I more or less saw him look in my direction. I was watching the main doors to the hospital's emergency room. He chortled under his breath.

"She is, is she? Why do I think your slip of words was intentional?"

"Because it was. You have another message. From Alice."

"I _do_. I knew you would figure it out. You've always been a bright boy," he said calmly.

"What is it?"

He sighed. "This is why I couldn't not get involved. Because something is awry, and something was just as odd with Alice as it is odd with you. What happened to you, Peter?"

"Nothing happened," I told him. It really wasn't any of Garrett's business.

He sighed, growling a little under his breath.

"Bullshit. You are not the same man I met all those years ago. You're domesticated. You have hunting 'practices'. From what I understand, you're just days into a relationship with her, yet you act like you've been mated to her for years. You look at this girl like you've loved her your entire life. I dare say your bond to her is stronger than the bond you ever shared with Charlotte. Not only that, but the mere mention of Alice's name almost made it look like you were about to fucking...shatter. And I don't think that reason has anything to do with Edward Cullen. What happened to you?"

I didn't answer.

Garrett growled openly, and he grew aggravated quickly. "I didn't just come here to pass on a few messages, goddammit! I'm nobody's errand boy!" he growled. "I came here because it sounded like a friend - someone I've always considered morally level - needed some help!"

He sighed, calming himself while lifting his hand to rub his temple. "And Alice thinks you do, too."

I need help.

I guess I did ask for it.

All of a sudden, I just couldn't control my tongue anymore. Maybe it was because I was tired - tired of living the lie...and tired of trying to figure everything out.

"Garrett, there isn't anyone on this earth who could help me."

He humphed under his breath. "Another slip that was intentional. I'll tell you what - I'll tell you what I know if you tell me what it is that you're hiding. And try to keep in mind, Peter, that I can walk away right now as light as a feather with a clear conscience. Could you do the same, only with Bella?"

"No, I could never. And I haven't been staring at her for my entire life; I've been staring at Bella for hers."

Garrett turned his head to look at me, and I looked back at him. To say he looked perplexed and a little taken aback was an understatement.

"That's three, my friend."

I nodded at him. Once.

"Talk to me."

There was no reason, no reason at all, to not tell him either. Because if there was anything Garrett could embrace, it would be the truth and what it meant. The man was all about righteousness - and faith, to boot.

Garrett was a colonist back in the days of The American Revolutionary War. What American History blamed on smallpox, vampire lore could tell a different tale.

He had been a blacksmith, and at that time he lived north in The Province of Massachusetts Bay, which would later become Maine. He was recruited to fight the British by one of Benedict Arnold's militia leaders, when Arnold's forces were depleted because of wary conditions and from hoofing it all the way from Boston. They were marching up to attack Quebec City during the winter of 1776.

Garrett survived the battle, but the colonists lost the fight. He and about two hundred of his other comrades later stationed themselves outside of Quebec City. It took all of three months for sixty some of those men to die by way of deplorable conditions and disease.

According to history.

Garrett was one of those men. Smallpox was infecting the camp. His fellow soldiers took the four who were infected out into the forest, far away from camp. The next morning, he woke up to find 'three white angels' staring down at him. The other soldiers lay dead by his side, killed by vampires. He remembers that they spoke to him in French, but he doesn't know what they said. They bit him and they left him to burn.

Three days later, he woke up alone. Everything was so new and foreign to him, even himself for a while. His first victims were members of a British scouting party, tracking down the camp to where he once belonged. But blood was blood. He killed those British soldiers, and he would feast on the colonist soldiers until they retreated. American History would say the regiment left because British forces were being reinforced by England, but they actually retreated a week before those reinforcements showed up because they were being slaughtered by the 'red-eyed devil' himself.

Garrett gained some control, and realized two or three months after the fact that he was killing the wrong side. Go figure.

But if you were to ever ask him if he hated the hand he had been dealt, he'd tell you 'no'. He had traveled the world, seeking knowledge and experience outside the norm, and he had learned more about himself as time had moved past him. He was an adventurer at heart, and he was a hard one to put something past.

If there was anyone who would embrace this gift of mine, it would be him. Maybe he could understand it. Maybe he could make it make sense since it all went awry.

Maybe he could help.

"Later. It's not the place and it's not the time. But please tell me what my message is."

He let out a very fake and very short laugh. "Uh huh. Nice try, asshole." He sat back in his seat and looked out the front.

My need and anger just bubbled out of my throat in a growl of his name, and I nearly reached over to snap his neck off. "Garrett!"

It must have been loud enough because an older lady with a younger lady, who could have been her daughter, looked towards the truck as they walked along the sidewalk and up towards the hospital.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. Getting angry at him would give me no answers, and he wasn't afraid of anything. Truth was the both of us considered ourselves well-trained and good fighters, and though he had age and experience with the wild, I was bred to fight.

Neither one of us believed we'd lose.

All the same, he was ready for me to come at him, and he tensed and growled low under his breath as he watched me.

I looked at him. "I'll tell you, I promise. But I gotta know now. I've spent the last nineteen years waiting for this...this time, Garrett. And I cannot lose her."

He relaxed somewhat, but he looked more confused and worried. "Why do you think you're going to lose her?"

"Because...Alice just might have the power and the knowledge to take her away from me. And I can't let that happen. I just can't let that fucking happen."

He put his hand up, and he tried to soften my panic and anger. "Alright, alright. You may be right. She does have that power, but she's not going to do anything about it unless...unless you fuck it up for yourself. And for Bella."

I looked at him and waited.

Garrett shook his head at me, grinning a little before he locked his eyes with mine. "Alice told me to tell you that she has always...been looking for you, Peter, but she hasn't always _seen_. She told me to tell you that the future keeps changing; that you both are changing it and she doesn't know what to make of it," he said solemnly.

Well that wasn't anything I didn't fucking know already. The future had changed. The only thing was she was looking for me. And I had to wonder just how much she did see. Because if she saw...enough...

Oh, fuck.

Garrett was watching me closely, and I'm sure that shit showed on my face. "Did she say anything else?"

Garrett looked out the windshield, and then out his side window. The rain had stopped, but I could smell more on the way.

Garrett jutted his chin out. "They said plenty. Come on, let's get some air." He opened his door.

I caught his slip of words.

"We don't need air."

"You do." He got out and shut the door. I had no choice but to follow him.

That hospital must have been built by a piece of shit because there were so many air pockets in the building and in the foundation, that the stench of decay and fresh blood wafted heavily through the air, and I heard Garrett groan. Thudding heartbeats - some in sync with others - drifted and called loudly. My own throat burned anew as I walked to the front of the truck where Garrett was standing on top of the curb, on the grass. His hands were in his pockets.

"You would think after two hundred and thirty three years it would get easier," he said.

"I'm not gonna have to tackle you, am I?" I asked, looking at him. His eyes had only darkened a little.

Garrett looked at me, groaning a little. "No, but I should feed soon."

"We'll go tonight. The guy I need to kill has some buddies. Chances are they'll be around, and they're shit themselves."

He looked at me again, but he was watching the doors as well. "You really are into this righteous killing crap, aren't you?"

"I am. I can make the world a better place to live in and I can live with myself a little bit better by doing it. There's plenty of evil in the world, Garrett, and plenty of stupid people who have no regard for the life they've been given."

He hummed as we both looked at the doors leading into the Emergency Room. There were too many voices in the air to pick out Bella's or Debbie's.

I didn't expect him to rip the heart out of my chest, but at least the fucker put it back in. And it was stronger.

"Alice said you would be worried about her and Jasper's interference. She told me to tell you not to worry, but if things progress like you're letting them, and if she thinks that Bella's making decisions she's not entirely sure she's making for herself, she will intervene. She says that whether or not you believe it, they do still care - for both of you. But if, and I quote, 'If he show any signs of fucking it up, we will come.' She says Bella's questioning things...things you've said and done. You need to 'play it cool', and give Bella some time. She also said that Jasper would never let her stop looking, even when it seemed like you were never going to crawl out. But time and space and something...extraordinary...have a way of affecting her. So, as much as she's seen, you're all still in the dark. She can't tell you what will happen because it still remains unknown."

I felt like I was physically falling apart - like each word was chipping away at the calm exterior I was trying to display. I was failing. But it was...

"Oh, and there's one more thing. Jasper said this hasn't been easy for any of them and that you should know that. They had to make choices they didn't want to make, but the choice they made should be clear now. And plotting Alice's death won't get you anywhere but dead. He also said to tell you that Alice needs her sister back, and you have always been his brother. So don't fuck up, or he'll tear you apart. He said you need to calm down, or he'll come down and he'll _make_ you."

It was the answer I wanted, but I got more...so much more than I was looking for.

"_We share venom, Peter. I'll always be your family."_

Our family. We were a little fucked up, but it didn't matter.

It was now in the hands of the living - or the dead, however you wanted to look at it. But it was in my hands to make it right. The future that was was gone. But in that future, I gave her time; I would in this one, too.

We were carving out a different road.

It took me a good minute to realize that Garrett's hand was wrapped around my bicep, holding my weight up. I also had the sudden urge to want to fly up to Ontario. But I knew I couldn't, because it wasn't the time. I had to heed the warning, the advice, and the love. I had to make everything right with Bella first.

I had to get it together before she walked out that door.

"Easy, Peter. Easy..." He was chuckling a little, at my side. "Now, if you think that after hearing all that - and me telling you all that - that you're not going to tell me what the hell is going on, you are dead wrong. We're all on your side - both of yours. So let me help you. Alice said that I could, but that you need to let me in. I had to give Bella the doubt so you could reassure her, because she'll really only listen to you. Because she trusts only you."

In the end, she did only trust me.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."


	17. Chapter 16 We've Only Just Begun

Chapter 16. We've Only Just Begun.

**AN: Thanks for reading.**

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***B*E*L*L*A***

"Bella, where the hell have you been?"

The relief was evident. But that question was asked vehemently, with anger behind it.

And boy, did I have a story to tell her. Debbie knew nothing about what had occurred since last Wednesday night. She knew nothing about me getting hassled outside the bar, by two drunk wanna be cowboys who were possibly looking to slip their dicks into anything with a pussy and two legs. She knew nothing about how my kitchen sink ended up getting fixed when I experienced what was perhaps the best kiss of my life.

Nothing about my date, nothing about my weekend getaway, nothing about where I was, or who I spent my time with.

She knew nothing about me falling hard and fast to the point where all rationality flew out a fucking window on top of a pinnacle up in the Sandia's, only to return to me in bits and pieces when confessions and promises were made.

Or after I experienced some really fucked up divine shit that I still thought that just maybe wasn't real. But a small part of me believed that is was. She like Peter, would never know that.

She knew nothing at all.

Everything was coming back to me so quick, it was disconcerting. I hadn't talked to her since Thursday, when she was sick, and that was over the phone. I hadn't told her nothing at that point. I even remembered we had made plans, to go out today for lunch. I would have stood her up, completely forgetting about the life I had lived before Peter entered the picture.

I had let everything else, and everyone else fall by the wayside, and it made me feel shitty.

I was going to make it a point to rectify that a bit, because it wasn't right. But I also knew, that I deserved a goddamn shot at being happy, and I wanted to love and be loved back. I just didn't want to hurt anyone in the process, and I had no idea how that could not happen.

Debbie knew nothing about the fact that I was now maybe 'living' on negotiated time, and that one day, I was going to have to say goodbye, or disappear completely out of her life.

And she could no nothing about more than a few aspects or experiences with it. Especially personal ones. The fact was, I was a piss poor liar, and I was not ready for her questions, or her interrogation. Which there would be one.

But I also knew, that just maybe I needed someone I could talk to about Peter. Because just maybe, I needed some who _was_ rational who could tell me that I was doing the right thing for me and I was going to walk into a never-ending life with my eyes wide open, with no shred of doubt.

I didn't doubt Peter's love for me, I didn't doubt it at all. It was there, and it was _real_. But it was so consuming that it was easy to be blinded by his love and not see that there might have been secrets, and truths to still be told.

How heavily those weighed was something to still be discovered, but I loved him enough that I didn't think any weight would bear heavily down to the point where I couldn't carry it or could carry me away from him.

It was Love, but something was just..off. I just knew he was holding something from me, but with everything I experienced that weekend, I needed someone with a clear set of eyes, common sense, and rationality. But I also needed someone who could believe that a person like me could find love that had no limits within four days without being completely off her rocker.

I crossed the short space to walk over to the other side of the bed. "Oh, God. It's a long story, what the hell happened to you?"

The knot and the laceration on top of her head drew my immediate attention. The bump looked huge, and the stitched up cut was about two inches long. Her hair was messed up and pushed back, and chunks of it stuck together because there was dried blood in it. She had tiny surface scratches on her left cheek, and her face was really blotchy and puffy.

She was looking at me with disbelief and shock, but she was a little angry, too.

She spoke thickly. "I got t-boned at Cerrillos and Rodeo this morning by some asshole who ran a light. I was _out,_ because Jess called me. She was heading home from her boyfriend's and said she saw _your truck_ parked down by the club. Well, it wasn't _your_ truck, it only looked like yours. So I decided I'd just go to the store to get a few things and that's how I got _here_." She said, slightly aggravated.

She scoffed at me, and she whispered vehemently. "Where the hell have you been? I've been worried sick. I thought..I thought you might have been dead! I thought maybe that _vampire_ killed you after all."

Her door was open, and there was people walking back and forth outside in the hallway. That ice pack she was holding was meant for her head, and I took it from her hand and held it up to her head as she talked.

I looked at her, cautioning her with my eyes and whispered to her. "Deb, I'm sorry. I'm really, really, sorry but I can't go into it too much right now. But that's where I've been. I've been with _him_. I spent the entire weekend with him at his place up in the Sangre'. I..I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

"What?" She looked shocked.

I sighed. "I've been with him. With _Peter_. His name is Peter." I smiled, painfully at her. Her mouth was agape and she just looked, shocked.

"You've been with him this entire time? Since.." She held her up her left hand motioning for an answer.

"Since Friday. Friday night. We went to Cliff's on a date. I spent the night at his place and I never went home until yesterday, and that was just to pick up a few things because I didn't have any clothes."

She was still looking at me with shock, but her face softened a little bit and then she was just scowling. "_Talk_, Bell. Because I'm missing a whole lot here."

I looked out the door and sighed. There was no way she was going to let this go even a little, not until she got some background. I sat on the edge of her bed and she leaned toward me a little. She was looking at me, waiting when I looked back at her.

"Remember Wednesday night, when we got off, and I walked out the front because I had to park on Cerrillos? Well, those guys that Vern threw out were still hanging around down by the park where I was parked. They got a little frisky and I was in the process of kicking one in the nuts when _he_ showed up and scared the piss out them. So we talked things out a little, and we made plans for a date. I was going to tell you Thursday night what happened but you called in, and I couldn't tell you that shit over the phone. But I even saw him Thursday because he called and he was the one that came over to fix my sink. Then we went out Friday night and he took me to Cliff's, and then he ran me up to sit on top of a Pinnacle by a fire up by Sandia Peak and things got out of hand and I went home with him and I slept with him and I stayed at his place all weekend. I turned my phone off because I only had two bars left and I didn't have my charger and well, I just forgot all about it. We can't talk anymore about it right now. It's not the place."

She just looked at me. Shocked. And she was scowling a little.

I sighed and pleaded with her. "Deb, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. I just..I just didn't think. I just..I fell in Love with him."

She did a double take while looking at me, her features softened. "You fell in Love with him?"

I sighed, pleadingly. "Yeah. I did. I'm so sorry."

She got aggravated, nodding her head and sighing a little. "Stop saying you're sorry. You've said it enough and you don't owe me anything, anyways. It's not like you have to tell me anything. But Christ, Bell, I've never been so worried.."

She shook her head and she sighed, she grew upset. Not angry, but a little irritated, and sad. "I've been looking for you since early Saturday morning. Remember on Friday, when I told you Steve was coming up?"

I did remember that. I remembered she was sick and he was coming over to help her 'heal.' "Yeah.."

She sighed and closed her eyes while shaking her head. "Well, he showed up. He rubbed my back and made me dinner and then we watched a couple movies..while he 'talked' me into spreading my legs. So we fucked, and then...he fell asleep. So...I just let him sleep." She shrugged her shoulders with reason.

"So I'm still watching TV, right, and his phone rings at 10:30. I let it go to voice mail a few times, but whoever was calling kept calling back, so I picked it up. Some _bitch_ starts going off asking me who the hell I was and why the hell was I answering his phone. Turns out he forgot he had plans that night with his _girlfriend _after work. Long story short, I found out he's been on and off with this girl Melinda for over _four_ years. But 'he couldn't just break it off with her.' Well, that fucker's lucky I didn't 'break it off'. I kicked his ass out and I told him never to call me or come back again." She said heatedly.

"Oh shit, are you serious?"

Debbie had met Steve a few weeks prior through a mutual friend down in Albuquerque. She was usually one that liked to take things slow and easy, not really one to worry so much that she wasn't married yet or her biological clock was ticking. Truth was, she really didn't know if she wanted kids, or marriage for that matter. She was very independent, but she certainly had had her share of the male gene pool. She wasn't promiscuous, and she certainly wouldn't fuck someone on the first date. But she did like Steve, she liked him a lot. They had a lot in common and neither of them wanted to rush into something. At least she didn't. Steve it seemed, had ulterior motives. Like overusing his dick.

Debbie was a little teary eyed. "Yes. The asshole. That's why I was looking for you though. I needed to vent and cry a little." She pushed my hand with the ice pack away from her head.

"Oh, Debbie. I'm so sorry." I felt truly terrible for her. It was rare for Debbie to ever need someone, and it made me feel a little guilty because I wasn't there when she needed me.

"I know. So am I. You owe me some ice cream." She said numbly, while glancing at me for a moment and sighing. I smiled at her a little, and she smiled back, though it wasn't very lighthearted.

I wondered for a moment if Peter could classify Steve as a fucking idiot, because he was, and if he would be interested in doing some pro bono work.

It was just a thought.

"Okay..." I said. "Change of subject. What happened to your head? What did the doctor say?"

She looked up at her own forehead. She could probably see the swelling. "The door frame slammed into me. I have a concussion and a couple bruised ribs, plus my knee is a little jacked up. I guess someone's supposed to watch me, so the doctor hasn't released me yet because I guess I need to be babysat. I feel okay, but my nerves are just shot."

She didn't seem out of it, but she didn't look like she felt to well. I thought about it for a moment, I still needed to tell her that I hadn't driven myself here.

"Well, you can stay at my place. Chances are you're really going to be feeling it all later, Deb. So yeah, you're definitely staying with me. Have you called Tony or Vinny yet?"

She was feeling her stitches with her fingers. "I couldn't get a hold of anybody. I didn't even have them try you first since your phone was off and you weren't answering the phone at home. It was pretty sad, but if you didn't answer I was gonna have them try Mandy next. What am I gonna do for a car? My car's fucking totaled. I have to go work. I have to.."

I interrupted her. "You don't need a car right now. I'll just run you where ever you need to go until you get shit taken care of. It might take a little bit, but you'll get it figured out. Don't worry about it right now. I um...I have to tell you something, though."

She was grabbing the front of paper scrub shirt, trying to adjust it because it was sinking low, and it wasn't doing a good job of keeping her boobs contained. "What?"

"I uh..I didn't drive myself here. Peter drove me. He's outside waiting. He's going to take us home if that's okay with you. If not, he'll leave me his truck and I'll drive us home. I was still at his place when they called me."

She was only somewhat shocked. "Oh...God." She shook it off, and sighed while looking at me concerned. "You know, I have a few questions about that."

"I know, and I have a few things I want to talk to you about. But if you don't want meet him, I can just call him and tell him to leave me the truck. He wouldn't have a problem with it, Deb."

She shook her head, but she looked worried. "Would it be okay? I've been bleeding. And God, I know I look terrible. Plus this..top. They cut my shirt and bra off. I made them slip off my sweats. They weren't gonna get these."

They were her favorite pair.

"You look fine. But you've got blood in your hair. It's dry though...I don't know. You sure you'd be comfortable with it? I mean, you might think he's a little intimidating, but he's really sweet and..Oh, I forgot about Garrett."

I had gotten up, and went to go get a few wet paper towels from the little sink to see if I could get some of the blood out of her hair when I remembered Garrett.

"Who's Garrett?" She was looking at me, a little worried. They had a dispenser of hand sanitizer by the sink, I squirted some on the paper towels.

"Oh, fuck, Deb. Garrett's Peter's..friend. Another vampire." I whispered to her. "I just met him this morning. Wait until you hear about that little experience. But I think he'll be okay. I think."

I pulled out some of her hair that was now dry and a little matted with blood. She looked at me with purpose. "You think? Get my brush out of my purse. There's alcohol in that cupboard somewhere, pour some on it. I wanna meet them but help me clean up a little."

Of course she did. This shit was right up her alley. It was exciting as hell, and dangerous nonetheless. But she wasn't afraid of nothing, or she hid her fear well. She was more concerned about looking decent enough, which she did even while being all messed up.

While I brushed out her hair and helped her clean up a little, we waited for the doctor to come in. She actually had quite a lot of blood smear running down her chest and on her arm and hand, where she had wiped it away. Evidently she bled quite a bit.

I told her how I met Garrett. It gave her something to laugh over while taking her mind off waiting and her own problems. She was a little nervous about seeing them, but she said it was just because it was so unreal. It was unreal. I didn't want get her mixed up in this but at the same time, it was too late. She was adamant about Peter taking us home, where as I was all for calling him to tell him to leave the truck. I peaked out the window once to see if I could see them, but the building wrapped around and I couldn't see the front lot.

The doctor, a man probably in his sixties, walked in about ten minutes later. He told me that when Deb went to bed later tonight she needed to be woken up every three or four hours, and to watch her for any changes in mental status. He gave me a list of things to look out for, it was a list I knew all too well. They had already taped up her ribs, and she was supposed to ice her knee as much as possible. He gave her a prescription for a few Vicodin and he gave her a tube of ointment in case her face started itching. The combination of the chemical contents and the airbag going off in her face was what was caused her skin to be all blotchy and a little puffy. He said she was sitting too close to the wheel.

I ran down to the pharmacy with her wallet and her prescription for the Vicodin, while she stayed and waited. She gave me orders to look for a t-shirt for her, too. She wasn't about to meet Peter and Garrett wearing a paper scrub top, it was bad enough she was going to have to do it without a bra. I kind of had to agree, Debbie's breasts were just kind of out there for being as little as she was.

I called Peter after I dropped her prescription off at the counter. He answered on the first ring.

"_Hey." _

"Hey, yourself. What are you doing?" I asked.

"_I'm watching Garrett drool. Some chick with a nasty slice on her shin just walked by us on the sidewalk. He wants to put her out of her misery. She smells like peaches. I can almost taste the fuzz myself."_ He laughed.

I laughed, it was funny in a morbid kind of way. "Please tell me you're kidding."

"_I'm kidding. He's fine. What's going on?"_ He asked softly.

"I'm down at the pharmacy getting a prescription filled for Deb. She got banged up pretty bad. She's got a concussion and a couple bruised ribs. I need you to take us home, to my house. She's going to stay with me for a day or two."

"_So what happened?"_

I sighed. "She went out this morning because Jess called her and sent her on a wild goose chase looking for me, because a truck like mine was spotted down by the club. She ended up running to the store and she got t-boned at Cerrillos and Rodeo. Her car's totaled. I'm just glad she didn't get hurt any worse than she is."

"_Yeah, no shit. Cerillos and Rodeo is nuts. Was she mad at you?" _

"Not really mad, just worried that you ate me is all. She kind of had a fucked up weekend. She found out she was just a side product with this guy she's been seeing the last few weeks. She's been looking for me since Saturday."

"_Ohhh...really? Should I take him out?" _

I could tell he was joking. The gift shop and the pharmacy were combined, so I was looking for a t-shirt for her while they filled her prescription. They were all white or pastel colored, I picked her out a blue one and sat down in a chair to wait.

"That's funny you should say that. I kind of wondered if you'd do some pro bono work. She really liked him...I am just kidding, Peter." I added.

He chuckled a little. _"I know you are. So are you going to work tonight?"_

He sounded sort of subdued. Or he was just being really sweet. I couldn't decide which. I was also kind of wondering what they were out there talking about. If maybe Peter found out anything else about Garrett's conversation with Alice.

"Yeah, I think I'll need to. She obviously won't be going in and that will put us a little short. Diane should be off tonight so I'll call her and see if she can come over and sit with her for awhile while I'm gone. Did you um..find out anything else?" I asked. I knew Garrett could probably hear me but I didn't care.

"_Yeah, a little, but don't worry about it. We'll talk about it later. Let's just say that I don't think you'll have to worry about getting anymore shitty ass messages or unexpected visitors. And when I take you two home, I'm gonna leave you there with Deb. We're gonna go get Garrett a few things and then I have to take him hunting later tonight. You two could use some girl time anyways, so you can talk about me." _

I laughed a little. "Saw that coming, didn't you?"

"_More or less. You need a break from me. I wish..you didn't, but you do. I can't say I won't miss you, though." _ He spoke it quietly.

His words felt hard. Disconcerting. They pulled. The feeling left me staggered for a moment it was difficult to keep the groan from leaving my mouth. At any rate, it was thick in my throat. "I know."

Neither one of us said anything for a moment. Maybe it was silly to feel like this, but I didn't think so. If loving each other like this was going to be every day of forever, I wanted it.

"_So how much longer?"_ He asked quietly.

I cleared my throat. "As soon as I get her prescription and go get her, we'll be out."

"_We're parked in the first lot to the right of the ER lot. Want me to pull up?"_

"No. She should probably walk a little, or I'll call you. She's a little nervous, so go easy."

"_I will. Call me if you need me."_

"I'll always need you." I said.

He chuckled a little._ "God, I hope so, Bella. Because I do believe the day you don't will be the day I die. I'll see you in a few." _

"Okay."

I didn't have time to dwell on his words so much. As soon as the call ended, the person behind the counter walked up with her prescription. I only knew I didn't care too much for talk about dying, not when living forever with Peter sounded like the only option I would be able to live with now.

His face, was behind my eyes. It was burned into memory. And I couldn't fathom not being able to look at him in front of me, so real and so there. My gut felt empty, yet it churned. My heart was full, bursting in fact, but it hurt just a little, too.

When I made it back to Debbie's room she was walking back and forth in front of the bed, slowly. She looked at me briefly before her eyes went down to my hands carrying the bag from the gift shop. Then they flew back up to my face.

"I got you a shirt. They didn't have much to choose from. You have to settle for light blue."

"You okay?" She asked. "You look sick."

"I'm pale. I always look sick." I answered. She studied me for a moment.

I smiled at her and looked down to take her shirt out of the bag. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not. You're in Love. That's much better than 'fine'. Take me home and tell me a story." She said, grinning a little. She grabbed the shirt out of my hand and pulled the tag off.

I didn't respond. I could tell her a story, but I wouldn't be able to tell her how it ended yet.

It was still dreary when we got outside, and a little cool, too. I looked to the south of the ER lot and across the street. I could see Peter, leaning against the front of his truck with his arms crossed over his chest, and Garrett, who was standing tall beside him. They were watching us. Debbie could walk well enough, she only hobbled a little, but she said she could feel her ribs. I carried her purse as we made our way down the sidewalk by the building.

"So where are they?" She asked.

I motioned with my head. "Over there, in front of that blue truck."

We were still sort of a ways away from the end of the sidewalk. We would have to cross the street over to the parking lot where they waited. I saw Debbie look but then she looked down, at her feet.

"My God." She said quietly.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Well, they have impeccable sight, right? I completely nipped out when we walked out that door. This is so embarrassing." She groaned quietly.

I laughed. "Well, if they couldn't see it, they most certainly heard it from your mouth. Way to go, Deb."

"Oh, shut up." She laughed and sighed, looking up finally. I could see Peter's upper body shaking a little, and both Peter and Garrett were smiling. "They do sort of look out of sorts, don't they?" She said. "Well, maybe not Peter so much, but that Garrett looks like he's suffering from rigamortis. Seriously, he looks like a stiff."

I laughed. "Deb...I wasn't joking. They can really hear you. And it's just because well,...he doesn't interact with humanity as much as Peter does, I suppose. He could probably stand like that all day and it wouldn't bother him. It wouldn't bother Peter, either."

She was looking down again, turning a little red. She breathed out. "Oh, God. They did hear me. Ohhh, shit." She was somewhat horrified.

They did hear her. Garrett was looking at us with a somewhat perplexed look on his face, while Peter had bowed his head and was laughing to himself. He turned his head to say something to Garrett who looked at him and bit something out back at Peter. Then he side stepped a little, and wiggled his shoulders, trying to look relaxed. Deb was actually mortified, and mostly looked at the ground. She said nothing else as we crossed the street.

When we got the next sidewalk, she slowed down as we walked up to them. Peter was grinning looking between us. Debbie was a little more nervous as she got a closer look at them. I stayed beside her, and I stopped when she did, about five feet away from them.

Both Peter and Garrett were trying not to come off as intimidating. Both of them, had contacts in, though Garrett was blinking pretty hard. She was looking between them, and Garrett was looking at her somewhat guardedly, and curiously. Debbie I believe had stopped breathing for a moment.

"Deb,..this is Peter. And that's Garrett. Garrett, Peter, this is Debbie." I said, I was watching her, and I wondered for a moment if she would run.

Peter pushed himself off the truck, and tentatively walked forward. "How ya' doing, crash?" He was smiling at her warmly. He lifted his arm up slowly, for her to shake his hand.

Debbie melted. Literally melted. Not that I could blame her. Peter really was turning on the charm. She laughed a little, embarrassed, and took his hand somewhat shakily.

The contact really surprised her as she looked at their hands. "Oh. Um..I've definitely been better." They both shook somewhat firmly. Peter let go and took a step back, crossing his arms back over his chest.

I watched Garrett swallow hard, with a guarded smile, staring at her intently.

Peter's smiled softened and he asked her somewhat seriously. "How do you feel?"

She swallowed and sighed out. "I'm okay. Head hurts a little and my ribs are tugging. Felt worse earlier actually."

"Were you wearing your belt?" He asked, nodding a little.

"Yeah. He hit me hard right in the side, the door really did a number on me..." She said, her voice fading a little at the end.

I think she noticed what I noticed as well. Garrett, for the most part—as I looked between Peter and him—was pretty much checking her out, from head to toe. His eyes came to rest, right on her breasts. And they stayed there.

It was just a moment, and the looks were flying. I looked at Peter, who looked between me and Debbie, and then over at Garrett with a somewhat shocked smile in his face, and in his eyes.

I looked at Deb who was looking at Garrett like he was committing a gigantic fucking sin while sucking in a breath, and Garrett snapped out of his breast studying stupor when I hissed his name.

"Garrett!"

He shook his head somewhat quickly and smiling brightly. "Oh, Hi. How are you?" He said, a smile in his voice.

"I'm..fine." She said somewhat indignantly and rudely. "You couldn't have been more obvious, though." She spoke strong, and she stood tall.

Garrett scrunched up his eyebrows, looking somewhat perplexed. "Yes, I could. If you didn't want anyone to stare at them, why would you get them done?" He reasoned with a question.

It was embarrassing as hell. But not to Garrett. I looked at Peter wishing he'd slap Garrett upside the head. Peter was beside himself, shifting on his feet while smiling and laughing silently while looking away.

Debbie scoffed and breathed a breath out, mortified and angry. "Ho..How do you know they're not real, you asshole?!" She asked.

Garrett looked at her challenging like, his eyes completely focused on her face.

"Because I can hear you slosh when you walk." He said dully.

We were stunned speechless. I looked at Debbie who took her eyes away from Garrett to look at Peter.

Peter looked at her and shrugged. "Yeah, he's right. He's a fucking jerk, but he's right."

It was quick, and I was glad he did it. He let his arm fly up on it's own accord to backhand the back of Garrett's head. Garrett glowered at him. Peter just shrugged, while looking at Debbie, who was still shocked and had stepped back just a little when she saw the speed at which Peter took action.

Garrett glared at Peter before he looked back at Debbie. Looked back into her eyes, and down at her breasts again, before looking back at her face to be precise.

He shrugged again, he was somewhat nervous. "They are nice, don't take me wrong. But they don't hold a candle to your face and your scent. You're impeccably beautiful, even with your face all messed up. And you smell like a autumn night under a harvest moon. Like wet and sodden maple leaves dancing in the breeze while they fall to the ground in a thick maple grove after a light shower. I'm not one much for vanity, and I'm not a stiff, either." He grumbled out.

Garrett shifted on his feet, and bowed his head a little to look at the ground before he looked back up at her. Looking at her with indifference. I think he said more than he intended to.

Peter was looking at the ground and looking between me and Debbie, smiling, while shifting on his own feet. "He's right about that, too. All of it." He said to Debbie quietly.

It really was one of the sweetest things I had ever heard. He obviously took her earlier comment to me to heart and was trying to make up for his rude behavior.

Debbie was really thrown for a loop, but I could tell that she soaking that right up.

It was known to me, that she regretted ever having her boobs done. All they did was make her back hurt and cause unwanted attention. But she got them to garner the attention she did want, and she thought it would boost her self esteem as well, when she really had plenty to begin with. She was just self conscious about being a little flat chested.

She swallowed hard, and looked at Garrett with indifference. "Where are you from?" She asked.

Garrett answered. "The East Coast. Maine originally." He said quietly.

She nodded, quickly. "I've been to Vermont. It's very pretty in the fall."

He slowly smiled at her, and nodded at her respectfully. "It is."

It was very quiet for a moment. Garrett's eyes, were lit with excitement. When I looked at her, hers were the same, and she was smiling back at him. She wavered on her feet.

_Oh, God. _

"Okay..." Peter said rather exuberantly, chuckling a little while raising his eyebrows at me and shifting on his feet again. "Let's um..go. Let's get you ladies home so you can..um rest. And..talk. Or...whatever."

Debbie cleared her throat, and tore her eyes away from Garrett. "Yeah, I'm a..Yeah."

Peter looked at me with meaning. "You ladies want the back?"

I nodded at him and Debbie, who was a little wide eyed. "Yeah, we'll take the back."

Garrett took a step back, as Debbie stepped forward to move towards the passenger side. Peter grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. We walked around to the side of the truck before I realized she might have needed help getting in since the truck sat up high.

"Oh shit, Deb, you need help?" I asked loud enough for her to hear.

"No, I got it. I think." She said.

Peter had my door open and helped me climb in, when I looked over at her door, through the window, Garrett was opening her door. She had to use her right leg to lift herself, and she stuttered for a moment because she couldn't raise her left arm up to grasp the side of the door frame. Garrett placed his hand underneath her arm, and helped lift her gently at the same time she lifted herself up with her good leg. She looked back at him, and I think she smiled at him with gratitude. He simply nodded at her once, smiling quickly before looking away.

The ride home, was interesting to say the least. An uncomfortable silence and tension made itself known right away, but the looks were flying.

Debbie stared at the back of Garrett's seat. Or his head, to be precise. My first thought was she was at a loss for words concerning Garrett, and that was a definite first. Garrett, stared straight ahead, and did not move for the most part. That is, until Peter couldn't take it anymore, and he engaged Debbie in a conversation. I, was looking at him through his rear view mirror. I couldn't see all of him, just his eyes when he would try to find me.

Peter talked to her and asked her questions about the wreck. What happened, what kind of car hit her, what kind of insurance she had. She for the most part relaxed, though when Garrett turned his head to the left and down, listening intently, she'd stutter every now and then. The majority of the time her eyes flashed back and forth between Peter and Garrett.

It turns out that Debbie had a green light to turn and the other car ran a red. A late model Buick smashed into her, and while that occupant was okay and just shook up, his insurance was not. He had none, he was just some young kid. Debbie had pretty good insurance to cover her car, but she did without the fundamentals like towing and car rental. Debbie 'used' to drive a red 2008 Toyota Prism. She didn't mention it to Peter, but her car payments were a little over $400 bucks a month, so I knew she was mainly worried because she'd have to start over with another down payment and maybe a higher monthly if she wanted to buy another new car. That Toyota was her first.

I had to give a lot of credit for Peter trying to put her at ease though. I could tell that she liked him, and she felt a little comfortable with his somewhat normal behavior. He especially put her at ease with talk about how I told him how much she loved science fiction, and boy, was she 'really into the real shit now', only on a mythological aspect of it. It even gained a smile and a chuckle from Garrett, who turned a little more in his seat to look at her intently while smiling a little.

She blushed.

I was getting vibes. Serious vibes, and I didn't know what to make of it. Or what to think. She was old enough to make her own decisions and such, but I couldn't help but feel a little protective over her. I didn't know if she was displaying interest or if she was just intimidated. All I knew, was Debbie rarely blushed, and her usual self-assertiveness was non-existent.

We were almost home when Peter slowed and turned to the right to turn into the gas station. He didn't pull up to a pump, he pulled up to a spot by the door.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'll be back." He answered, getting out of the car and not saying anymore. Garrett even watched him curiously.

"What's he doing?" Debbie asked.

"I don't know." I answered. I watched him walk in and to the back until I couldn't see him anymore.

It wasn't even a full minute before he came walking out, with a small brown paper bag. He got in the truck and turned around, and he thrust the bag at Debbie.

"Here. It's for both of you." She took it, thoroughly confused.

He gave me a suave smile and he winked before turning around to put the truck in reverse to back out.

Debbie looked at me with question. I shrugged. When she opened it up to look inside, she smiled brightly, surprised. She tilted the bag so I could peak inside.

In it was a pint of Ben and Jerry's Half-Baked and a pint of Phish Food. Which did happen to be Debbie's favorite as well. We always took bites of the others, though. She was still looking at me with a smile full of curiousness.

"It's a long story, " I told her. "But Peter is a snoopy ass son of a bitch."

"Hey, that's 'fucker' to you. I'm pretty positive that was the word you used." He said, a smile in his voice. His eyes met mine daringly, through the mirror.

"I stand corrected. Thank you."

"Yes." Debbie said. "We definitely thank you." She was still confused, but she smiled at Peter. Garrett's curiosity was really peaked, as he all but completely turned around to look at her, frowning. She sat further back in her seat, looking down and away from him after their eyes met.

Peter had her wrapped around his goddamn finger, and he knew it, too. It was in his eyes as he looked at me through the rear view mirror. I couldn't be angry with him, he was definitely putting his best foot forward to make her feel comfortable around him.

And to kiss her ass.

When we got close to home, Debbie and I were talking about going to get a few things from her house since she was staying at mine for at least the night. Peter volunteered to drive us there, that way we didn't have to venture out later. Debbie and I went in when we got to her house, a quaint little bi-level adobe, while Peter and Garrett waited in the truck. Garrett, however, did get out of the truck to help Debbie step out, and it was the same when she had to get back inside. She was nearly completely nerve racked as she thanked him each time.

When we got my house, I realized I had left my keys, back at Peter's. They were still sitting on top of his dresser.

"Oh, shit. I left my keys at your house, Peter."

"You got a spare in the house?" He asked, pulling into the drive.

"Yeah, but it's in the house. A lot of good it does us out here."

I imagined him rolling his eyes in the front. I heard him sigh, as he lifted the top to the middle console and pulled out some kind of tool that had a long and flat metal shaft with some kind of hooked end.

He handed it to Garrett. "Can you pick it for em'? I want to talk to Bella before we leave." He said somewhat quietly.

"Aren't you going to stay for a little bit?" I asked hopefully. Garrett and Debbie were in the process of getting out of the truck. Garrett pulled open the rest of her door, ready to help if she needed assistance.

"No, we got a few things to take care of, and the sun might be out later, so the sooner the better."

I didn't have a chance to respond as he got out to pull my door open. It didn't look like the sun was going to make an appearance at all. It was overcast, and it looked like more rain was heading in from the south. Not that we couldn't use the rain, but it was certainly unexpected. The weather had called for a sunny week last week.

Peter was helping me out of the truck when Debbie and Garrett had walked over from the other side. Debbie was ahead of Garrett, who was carrying her bag. Peter grabbed my hand and we walked a couple steps to my walk through the yard.

"Debbie, you take care." Peter said. "I'm sure I'll see you sometime soon." He held his hand out for her to take.

She smiled at him, looking nervously between us. "Thank you. Thanks for the ride and for bringing Bella to me." She gave him her hand and Peter lifted it quickly, placing a kiss on the top before he let go. She was surprised for a moment.

"No problem." He said, smiling at her. Plus he looked like he was almost getting ready to laugh. Debbie smiled and nodded at me, and walked down the sidewalk. Garrett watched her back studiously, following her to the alcove for my front door. We both watched them, as Peter pulled me along to the front of his truck by my garage door.

He pulled me up close to him with my one hand in his. His face was priceless. He looked mischievous, excited, and he was smiling, from ear to ear.

"What do you make of that?" Peter whispered. He tilted his head really quick in Garrett and Debbie's direction.

"I don't know." I whispered back. "But that was weird. He didn't say a word in the truck, not like that mouthful of shit he spouted off back at the hospital."

He laughed. "I know. I don't know what's going on with him, but I'll find out. I've never seen him like that. He growled at me when I kissed her hand." He said laughing a little.

"He did? I didn't hear that." I said.

"Oh, it was there." He said, his eyes alight.

"Peter.." I said, looking at him worriedly. I didn't necessarily think it was funny, the truth was I was worried about getting my friend mixed up in this to begin with. Now there was a possible display of interest, and that was really worrying me. I looked over to the alcove. I heard Garrett say something inaudible, and I heard Debbie laugh.

"Heyyy." He said, giving me appraising and serious smile. "It's obvious we're both thinking the same thing, but it's none of our business. It might be nothing, and if it isn't...well, maybe we can double date." He laughed.

"Peter!" I hissed.

He gave me a look that said I needed to calm down. "Bella, relax. They're old enough to make their own decisions. God knows how long he'll stay, anyways. You can't tell them what they can or can't do, so stay out of it."

"I know." I whispered. "Well, actually I don't. But I don't want get her mixed up in this. In _vampires_." I said.

He leaned down, taking my lips in a quick kiss. "I know. She already is though. Just relax. You've got plenty of other shit to think and worry about. Like just how the hell you're gonna keep me away from you."

I watched his face fall a little. It wasn't completely odd, but everything just felt so surreal. Maybe it was separation anxiety, maybe it was because I just couldn't imagine him not being around. I had spent the last three days with him, and everything just felt so different, and not in a good way.

It was love. So new and so raw and so perfect, that the thought of being away from him for any amount of time just seemed incomprehensible. But I guess what was so spectacular about it, was he shared the same opinion.

"I don't want you to stay away from me. Everything just feels so...different. I don't like it."

He nodded, wrapping his arms undermine to pull me flush against him. He laid his head against mine and stared into my eyes intensely. It was almost as if he was afraid.

His voice was barely there. "I know."

Garrett, made his appearance just then. Peter raised his head and I turned mine to look at him. He had a very serious look on his face, and he said nothing as he ignored our stares and walked to the truck a little too quickly to get in on the passenger side. We both sighed.

"I want you to promise me something." Peter said, I turned my head to look at him. He looked very serious. "I'm gonna go, but if anything weird happens or if you just need me, you'll call me. I'll be here in less than five minutes."

I thought about it for a moment. Actually, I thought about him. He was acting so much differently than this morning before we heard about Alice and Jasper, and her message. He wasn't so worried, and there seemed to be a certain lightheartedness he was displaying now.

"Well, about that. Earlier you were dead set against leaving me alone and now you're off. What did I miss? What did Garrett say?"

He thought for a moment. His face was undecipherable. "He just reiterated the same thing he told you. I think Alice knows that any interference right now would be even more detrimental to salvaging any type of relationship with you. Or us. You made that quite clear to Garrett. I kind of wonder if she saw that. I think she probably did."

"You don't think that Alice is doing Edward's dirty work? That maybe he's using her to get to me because _you're_ not in my best interests?" I asked somewhat irritatedly.

"Bella, you're guess is as good as mine. But lying about it would make it worse. Alice isn't dumb, she knows that."

He paused for a moment, his face turned extremely critical. "Do you think she'd stoop low enough not to respect your wishes? Would she have any reason to think you'd take Edward back?"

It was easy to see what he was insinuating. If I thought about Edward, maybe it triggered a 'vision' of him and I. What I couldn't believe, was he had the nerve to ask it. After everything that occurred yesterday, after telling him the day before that I wouldn't, and couldn't, he still asked.

It hurt. It pissed me off. It wasn't the case, though he thought it could be.

"I can't believe you. How could you even fucking go there? There's not a chance in hell I'd take him back, even if you weren't around, you son of a bitch. How can you even ask that?" I tried to pull away from him but he just held on, that much tighter.

Peter smiled malevolently. "No, no, no..I have every right to ask that, because I _know_ how much I love you. I'm asking because I need to know that you love me enough to never leave me for him. I'm asking that because I'm trying to figure out what she's seen of our future, and if it involves him, then it's because there could be a doubt in your pretty little head. So you tell me now if you think she'd have any inclination to want to repair your friendship based on what she _might _have seen when it comes to you and Edward."

There was no doubt at all, but it pissed me off that he thought there was one. And God did it hurt. It hurt bad.

"No, there is no 'me and Edward', and you're an asshole for even thinking it. You think I'm playing fucking games, that I don't mean it with my whole fucking heart when I say that I love you, that it feels like it's being fucking ripped away from my chest because I can't imagine what I'm going to feel like today while you're not around? You son of a bitch." I pushed away from him with both hands, as hard as I could, and he let go.

I wanted to throw up.

He stood there, like a prick, putting his hands up in the air in surrender, looking at me with caution.

"Calm down, Bella. I had to ask. Only because I don't think she's working under Edward's radar. I think she told Garrett the truth, and even if I didn't trust her, I trust Jasper. He maybe a part of Edward's family now, but I've always been his, and he's not the type to ever forget that, even if I did." He said thickly.

"Oh, so you're testing me." I laughed, and wiped away my tears. Though there wasn't anything remotely fucking funny about it at all. It was all to well obvious that he thought my feelings for him didn't run as deep as the feelings I once had for Edward, and he turned it into a fucking test.

He might as well as just of slapped me in the face.

After everything that happened that weekend, he still questioned whether or not I was really his. So of course, he'd believe Alice and Jasper, because they never did _him_ any wrong. He really had no reason not to trust them.

He didn't trust me, or my love for him. But he wanted to 'marry me'. He wanted to 'kill me.' What was the point of fucking telling me that shit if he couldn't trust me?

"You know what? Go to hell, Peter. You wanna trust Alice and all the shit she's spouted out about being happy for us, go right ahead. It all boils down to the fact that I can't trust any of you. So go home and brood on that for awhile because looking at you right now just fucking hurts."

I turned around, and I walked. Fuck him. Fuck them. I didn't need any of this bullshit. I didn't need anyone questioning where my heart lay, because right at that moment I left it right on my fucking driveway.

At least I was home.

"Goddamn, Bella! What the fuck are you getting so pissed about?!"

I heard him attempting to follow me. I whipped around.

His eyes, his face, made me believe that his was ripped out and thrown on the driveway as well, only I stomped on it a few hundred times.

Good. That son of a bitch could pick it up himself.

"Go _home_. I don't want to fucking talk to you anymore right now. I am so fucking sick to death of your..fucking games, and your I'm Sorry bullshit! Just go home and leave me the fuck alone!"

I ignored the panic and the flash of pain mixed with anger that darkened his eyes and I turned around and I kept walking. Fuck him.

"So what, after everything that happened this weekend you're just gonna walk away from me and not try to solve this?" He asked thickly.

I turned around.

"That's exactly what the fuck you should have thought of before you had the nerve to even ask me that question. I'm so goddamn mad that I just can't deal with you right now, so go home, and leave me alone."

We both stood there for just a fraction of a moment, and I knew I was looking at eyes full of sorrow and a body that couldn't breathe but I just couldn't find it in me to care. My heart was beating out of control and breaking in half and my stomach was cramping. My throat closed off and that was it.

That was it.

I turned around and walked into the alcove, and out of sight.

When I opened the screen door, Debbie was there, looking shocked and worried.

There was an odd feeling that came over me, it was as if my body was starting to miss something. Something attractive. Something that had consumed my very being the last few days, like a drug almost. And I yearned for it.

The hum, the song he and his body sang to me the last three days was gone.

It was a bad goodbye. I couldn't even make my feet work to run back out the door when I heard his truck peal out of the driveway.

***P*E*T*E*R***

I hated my life.

It was obvious she felt like I was betraying her in some way, when that was far from the case, but there really wasn't any other way around it. Bella had some deep fucking rooted animosity for the Cullens, not that they didn't have it coming. They treated her like a member of the family. Then they left her, no goodbye's or nothing. Except Eddie's shitty one. When you're old enough to know better, anyone should know that that shit isn't gonna go well if you're looking to repair things in the future. And it just might not fucking happen.

I hated my life. And bad goodbyes suck.

I was hurting, she was hurting, and that son of a bitch Garrett was going to get throttled just yet. Because he thought it was funny.

I knew Bella loved me. I knew without a doubt that as far as she was concerned, she wouldn't hesitate to choose me. The place Edward held in her heart was almost non existent, and all that remained was just the tiniest fraction or a whisper that she should care what happened to him because he was her first love, and most people never forget that. I simply asked her the question that set her off because I was trying to prove a point, instead of just outright saying what I felt. But I had to give her the idea that just maybe Alice's intentions were anything but devious ones.

And that was fuck up number one. Fuck up number two was I did it with attitude. Because even though I was going to heed by Alice and Jasper's message, it wasn't even two hours into hearing that they were still a part of our lives. And like Bella, I was already sick of the shit. The living, and the dead, was throwing shit at us left and right.

It still was a complication that we didn't need, because things were tense enough already.

I had to wonder if things would really calm down, even if I put some effort into it.

She wasn't going to see Alice's intentions my way, and there wasn't anything I could do to change that. I tried and failed, and pissed her off.

And that pissed me off.

I didn't even get to kiss her goodbye.

"Just spit it the fuck out, Garrett, because I'm about to knock the hell out of you," I told him. Because the fucker was just pissing me off. He was sitting in the passenger seat, holding his breath up until that point.

He laughed out. "My, she's got some spirit, doesn't she?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Calm down and quit yelling. Do you want me to drive?" He asked, laughing somewhat.

"What?!"

He looked at me as if it was obvious. "Do you want me to drive?"

"You don't know how to drive, you prick!"

"Well, that maybe true, but that sign you just passed said 'Stop', and I'm pretty sure you were supposed to stop." He laughed.

I eased off the gas, and made it a point to pay attention to the road and relax a little. We were still in a residential area, and unbeknown to that son of a bitch beside me, we were headed to acquire his apology to Debbie for his abrupt and rude behavior towards her earlier. He might have smoothed that shit out, but I was gonna pave his path with fucking gold.

Garrett liked her, almost immediately, but he didn't like being referred to as a stiff, when he has always felt so alive. The son of a bitch forgot though that it had been the first time she was going to encounter the mythological, and she was a nervous wreck. Her nerves were rattled anyways, after getting smashed into and being betrayed by some dog ass motherfucker. He could have been a little more sympathetic, so he was gonna make up for it.

With my wallet. But I was gonna make him my bitch.

I wasn't quite sure why it was important to me, but it felt like the right thing to do. Plus a load would be lifted from her mind. Her car payments were ridiculous, and that car had been her first new car. And unlike Bella, Debbie had a house payment.

Garrett was still studying me. Still smiling and laughing under his breath.

"Don't worry about it so much, friend. She'll be calling you before the day is over." He chuckled.

"Oh, what makes you so fucking sure of that?"

He looked at me like I should know. "Well, she's in heat, isn't she? She's going to want to...mate."

It was my turn to give him a look, so I looked at him like he was fucking stupid.

"Jesus H. Christ. Are you fucking kidding me?!" I asked.

"What? You can't tell me you didn't notice how potent her scent was. I saw you breathe her in. She'll want to mate..right?"

He _was_ being serious.

Garrett was an educated fool, having a great love for books. I would have assumed that he would have studied his prey, and everything about them. But I guess two hundred and thirty three years was a long time to forget about the human female reproduction system.

But he was right. Bella was getting ready to start her period. Her scent was more potent when she walked out of the hospital. It took great effort not to bone up in front of her and Debbie.

"Garrett, human women aren't like other placental mammals. Most of them aren't, anyways."

I looked over at him. He still didn't get it. "You mean they don't want to mate?"

Bella wouldn't. At least I didn't think she would. The first day going into the second when she bled the heaviest was always hell on her. The first day into the second were days when the cramps were painful. But her periods never lasted anymore than five days.

Her back would be sore, especially after a long night at work. So would her feet. Her breasts would be tender, more sensitive. As much as I loved the thought of that, there was no way in hell I was getting laid anytime soon.

This shit was kind of awkward. Not with Bella, but with Garrett. It was as if I was talking to a young adult about the human reproduction system, when the fucker had a hundred and sixty four years on me.

"Uh..No, most of them don't. When they bleed, they smell good to a point because their bodies are still admitting low doses of estrogen so their scent is more potent and pure, but she'll smell a little off because she'll be excreting dead blood. She'll be more bitchy, more crampy...horny ain't happening."

"Why do you suppose that is?" He asked.

"I don't fucking know...their sexual receptors are more sensitive, and sometimes painful, I guess. They're not like dogs or cats, Garrett, it doesn't work the same. Go read a fucking book or something. I can't believe you forgot this shit." I said irritatedly.

Garrett didn't say anything, and I was busy paying attention to the road. I glanced at him real quick, and he was grinning, laughing silently.

"You..fucker. Why the hell are you dicking with me right now? It's not a very smart thing to do, Garrett. Not fucking smart at all."

"It got you to calm down, and think about something else. You shouldn't worry about what just happened so much. She seems a little stressed, and maybe she needed to blow off a little steam. Not that you could have done it a different way, but throwing her old relationship in her face seemed a little..cruel. Why did you do it?"

"Because hopefully when she thinks about it rationally, she'll give some thought to the idea that I just may be right. She ain't gonna fucking admit it, though, if she does." I added.

He chuckled. "Why do you say that?"

"Because she's a woman_, _and they're _never_ fucking wrong. Plus she can put the B in Bitch if she wants to."

I pulled into Santa Fe Chevrolet, just as Garrett grumbled out. "Better hope she never hears you say that."

"She won't, unless you fucking tell her." I pulled into a spot by the main building.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were going 'shopping'." He asked.

"We are shopping." I pulled out a couple pair of contacts from the console. Garrett was burning them up quickly by blinking too much. My own were burned up because I was pissed off. And whoever sold me this car was gonna piss me off even worse when he told me what my all cash price would be. It was gonna be an awful long fucking day, and it was gonna suck. There was still a conversation that needed to be had, and I was trying to put it off.

It just didn't seem right to be telling Garrett about the last twenty one years when I should have been telling Bella. But I needed help, and maybe he could help me.

"I don't need a car, I can't drive." He said.

"I'm not buying you a car. _We're_ buying Debbie a car. I can't believe you said that shit to her earlier after I told you to keep your cool. She was scared, Garrett. Not only that but Christ, you had check out her rack and make it obvious?"

I could feel him buzzing. He still scoffed. "Did you see her breasts? I mean _My God_. A man could get lost in those! And you could have warned me she was beautiful. How the hell do you expect me to buy her a car? And even if I could, why would I? I don't have any money."

"Because she's appealing to you, and don't think I didn't notice. Plus she's got enough bills and enough to worry about already when she files her claim with her insurance agency. Consider it your apology to her for your crass behavior. You can pay me back later this week by helping me put Bella's new floor in."

He looked over at me while slipping his left contact in and smiled, wryly. "You failed to mention that it might soften your woman up a little in the process."

That was a big maybe. It very well could, or it could piss her off even more.

I missed her already, and I was going to have to go through the day with my chest literally feeling as if it was being ripped open.

"Maybe. Get out, and at least try not to act like a fucking stiff."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

_A little over two hours later..._

"I guess it really is a small world. At least where vampires are concerned. You really think Alice is up to no good?" Debbie asked thoughtfully.

It took only a little over an hour to get everything squared away. Debbie of course asked right away what happened, evidently she heard me yelling at Peter from inside when she put her bag in the guest bedroom. That conversation had confused her, but it pretty much lead to the telling of the last five days of my Peter experience.

The last two hours were filled with an overload of information.

Of course, I skipped around a few things. Personal things. Like his reaction to my asking about Charlotte, and the little he was able to tell me. I glossed over yesterday, mainly telling her what he looks for when he hunts, which she found sort of fascinating and shocking at the same time.

I lied to her about meeting Marcy, and her subsequent death afterward. Telling her she passed away of natural causes. I could see no other way around it. There was just some things I couldn't tell her. And of course I didn't tell her about hearing and feeling my mother. I decided somewhere along the lines, that it was for me, and me alone. If it even really happened in the first place.

I gave her the facts, those I knew about. I told her why I loved him. That he was a headstrong cocky bastard who didn't wax poetic and said what he felt, but inside sometimes he was afraid. That he was a liar and a manipulator but he spoke the truth—most of the fucking time—and though he pushed, he let me figure out things on my own, and he tried to respect that.

I told her I loved him, because he wasn't afraid to love me. He didn't dwell on the errors he had made, he moved on, and he tried to make the most of it. Of life.

That all occurred after we squared her away in the house, Debbie called her insurance agency to start the claim on her wreck, while I took a long shower.

Which I kind of didn't want to do. Because his scent was still all over me, and inside me.

I wanted to keep it.

I did however glance in the mirror when I undressed, and I realized that he was still all over me. The left side of my neck, was still purplish and red. The huge bruise on my lower back, from breaking the door by the library. Light colored raspberries on the swells of my breasts, and my left nipple had been manipulated so much it was still sore, and I had to wonder if it would stay permanently hard.

I realized that I had made a mistake.

It had only seemed like a test to me when he asked me and told me why he felt about Alice's message the way he did. Because maybe he had figured me out, and maybe he knew I wouldn't react so well when I found out he didn't share my opinion. So he was trying to give me something to think about, he was trying to soften the blow. And it still wasn't sitting right with me, because I had no reason to trust her, and it kind of hurt that he did.

Maybe he needed to ask about Edward, just so he could know that there would be no competition, nor a decision that would have to be made. I had made my disdain known, and I didn't talk to him about what I thought after Garrett delivered his message. As heart felt as it was, as much as I wanted to believe it, I couldn't give into the thought that her intentions were true. I still didn't trust her, but he did.

Peter's first text message to my phone came in while I was in the shower.

_You're pissed. I Love You. Becky called. Visit tomorrow, at 6. Answer me._

We still weren't able to get a hold of Tony or Vinny when we got home. Debbie had tried calling again, right away. After I got out of the shower, I was able to reach Vinny, to tell him about Debbie, who also spoke to him for a minute because she wasn't sure if she'd even be able to make it in tomorrow. We called Diane, to see if she could come over and sit with her later on, she never answered. But I had gotten a hold of Rhonda, one of the part timers who agreed to cover my hours tomorrow night.

I sent him an answer.

_I'm not pissed. Aggravated. U could have just spit it out. Off tomorrow._

His answering response came in right away.

_You Love ME. I know this. Sorry._

_Me 2. I Love You. _

_Miss you. Too much._

_Miss you, too._

_Call before you go into work. _

_K._

_Tell Deb we don't take no for an answer. _

_Huh?_

He didn't respond. I sent him another text.

_Peter, what do you mean?_

_You'll see. Shopping. Pick a color. _

_Red. What do you mean?_

_Not telling. Later._

_I don't want anything._

There wasn't a response.

When it was noon, I had made us both lunch. While I was cooking, and Debbie tried to help, the doorbell rang. It was Federal Express, and it was my check for my Kentucky Derby win.

There was an idea, that sprung to mind, when I got that check. It was an idea that actually Marcy inspired, and it was going to take a lot of work. It was also going to take more than five hundred dollars, and some time, research, and planning. But Pauline Fischer I doubt had not found her way to the only home she ever had, and something told me that Peter hadn't even thought about it.

Debbie was curled up at one end of the couch with two pillows from the bed in the spare bedroom when she asked her question. I was at the other end. We were eating our ice cream.

I felt like a stranger in my own house, which was odd, but I didn't exactly walk back into it as the same person I was once before, either. It was almost completely quiet when we weren't speaking, the table clock's tick the only noise to really be heard.

"You know..I really don't know. It's just...she found a fine time to _sort_ of walk back in my life, you know? What am I supposed to think?" I asked.

Debbie's forehead was looking worse by the hour, but it was also doing it's thing. She was able to keep the swelling down somewhat, but she had a nice purplish bruise surrounding her stitches, and her left eye wouldn't open as far as the right. I gave her a bottle of ibuprofen, so she could switch off with the Vicodin to keep her out of pain so much. She didn't care for how it made her feel groggy.

Debbie was thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe your fate was predetermined a long time ago. Maybe she's seen more, and she had to see how these last few years played out, you know? Without any interference. Give you a chance to I don't know, make your own fate." She shrugged. "Maybe she figured, 'well screw it'. If she's going to be a vamp, at least I can have my best friend back, or something. I mean, that is what you're talking here. Isn't it?"

She looked at me knowingly. I'm pretty sure the answer was on my face. I still didn't answer her right away. Whatever it was about her, Debbie had a knack for always making me feel comfortable with myself. Comfortable with voicing my thoughts.

Her voice was even soothing. Always calm and on the quiet side. Just like a mother's should be. With Garrett however, it exhibited strength, until she was thrown off guard. We had yet to talk about that.

I was a little thrown off by Debbie's first thoughts about Alice's 'appearance' back into my life. I would have expected that maybe _she_ could see that perhaps Alice was working only one side of this, and that was her brother's. Not mine or Peter's.

"Yeah. That's what we're working towards, I guess."

She was just getting ready to take a bite of her ice cream when she paused and looked at me. "Why is it just a guess?"

"Don't change the subject just yet. You don't think Alice is trying to pull one over on us because of Edward?" I asked.

She raised her eyebrows. "Well you obviously do. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's the only option you really have let yourself think about, not that I blame you. She's left you alone all this time. Never tried to contact you before. It'd be the first thing I'd probably think right away myself. But have you even thought about how hard leaving you in Forks might have been for her? To her, your friendship was probably new, and exciting. Probably something it wasn't easy for her to give up like you like to think it was. I almost wanna bet that she really could never, no matter what she inevitably did for her brother. Hence the reason why she's probably always been watching you. Maybe you need to think outside the box a little and give her the opportunity over the doubt. You know what you want, what you need. I bet she knows it, too."

I sighed. "I know. I am trying to give her the benefit over the doubt, but it's still all one goddamn big fucking puzzle. You know, why now? Why not come herself? Why aren't her and Jasper living with the rest of the family anymore? There's just..I don't know, I get the feeling something pretty fucking shady is going on. And not just with her, either."

"With Peter?" Debbie asked.

"Yeah."

"Spit it out."

Coming home had revived a few memories. There was no doubt that Peter was just a force to be reckoned with. Sometimes he was too consuming, even when it came to sex. Other times it was because conversation would take us from one place to the next, some of it volatile, most of it learning experiences, especially about the other. Some of it left me breathless, and with a heart so full I actually thought more than a few times it would burst.

Some of it left unanswered questions, or questions that never got asked because they were forgotten about. I realized that most of the time with him, I was just focusing on the present, everything about him kept my mind focusing on something different from one second to the next.

_'It's about goddamn time. You have no idea how long I've waited to finally walk into our life.'_

I tried to put it into words so I could explain it to Debbie.

"Something happened and I kind of got the feeling he said more than he intended to say. But, the thing with Peter is..sometimes he doesn't think before speaking, and he talks out of his ass so much..well...maybe I'm putting too much thought into it. I swear, Deb. It's like he knows every little thing about me, or what I need to hear. Even..little things. Like grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. But then..it's almost like he gives everything a splash of new. Or I find things I like but he knows that I'll like them. I can't explain it right." I took a bite of ice cream. It was getting to the point where it was half melting, when it was better to eat.

She was thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe he's just really payed attention, Bell. He had a few weeks to watch you. Maybe it's because he's had years trying to figure out women, and hell, you are pretty low maintenance. Maybe he just really loves you. What happened? What did he say?"

I remembered that night. That night I had the dream. I pretty much had forced myself on him.

I sighed. "He said, 'You have no idea how long I've waited to finally walk into _our_ life'."

She continued to look at me, but a strange look crossed her face. "Huh."

"Yeah."

She sighed and thought a moment. "Maybe..maybe he was just trying to say he's waited so long to find love again, but that was his way of telling you he wants you for..eternity. I guess. I don't know, that _is a_ weird thing to say. But you said yourself he gets his words mixed up easily."

"I know, and that's what I thought, too, only..." I didn't finish. I had a pretty good idea how she'd react when she heard the next piece of information.

"Only what?" She said with a mouthful of ice cream.

"Only he said it in bed. While we were making love. While we were having sex."

The blanch look on her face would have been somewhat comical if we weren't talking about something serious. At any rate she wasn't expecting it.

"Whoa. He said it while you were..."

"Yeah, pretty much." I thought about when he said it. "Well..no..that's not entirely true. He said it after I sucked his dick. Right before we were getting ready to..have intercourse."

She took my bluntness in stride by choking on a bite of ice cream while laughing. I felt bad for her, because you could tell that by doing so, it hurt her head.

"Well..hmm. That's quite a strange..confession. I don't know, Bella. Maybe he was just really into it. You're thinking too much into it." She said.

"_I could never give this up, Bella. I've waited too long to be with you like this."_

"I know you're probably right, but, he kind of said it again while we _were_ in the act. He said, ' I could never give this up. I've waited too long to be with you like this'."

She shook her head. "No. I think you're thinking too much into it. It's not like he's confessing some deep, dark secret, or calling you by his dead mate's name or something. I mean, it is an odd fucking thing to say but..." She laughed a little bit. "You must um..have some serious skills, Bell."

"Thanks." I laughed.

She quieted. "He probably meant it's just been a long time for him, and he was really enjoying you. Loving you. I mean, My God. If he lost his mate and went twenty one years without proper pussy, having sex now is just probably blowing his mind. And maybe it's a little strange for him, too. I mean, he was with her for a very long time. It could have been a big step for him, inviting another woman, and human one at that, into his bed. Don't think too much into it."

"You're probably right." I said.

Though I had the feeling she wasn't. I had the feeling he was saying more.

"Did you ask him about it?" She asked.

"No. Yesterday..yesterday was just a bad day for us, with me trying to..except what he is, and what he does. We got into a couple heated debates and it..it was just hell when Marcy died."

Debbie was quiet for a moment. I didn't really lie, but I still couldn't look at her.

"Why do I get the distinct feeling you're not telling me something?"

I looked at her and smiled. "Because there's a lot I'm not telling you, and I can't. I'm still worried about you being involved in this. Because I can't protect you."

She grabbed my foot that was laying by her leg and squeezed it. "Want to tell me what you mean..."

She didn't answer, because there was a knock at the door. "Hold that thought." I told her, and I got up to answer it.

When I opened the door, I opened it up to some middle aged man, wearing a Santa Fe Chevrolet ball cap, and a service shirt. He was standing there with a large yellow envelope and a clipboard.

"Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I got a delivery. Are you Deborah Conroy?"

"No. Deb?" I looked back at the couch, she was already making her way off of it.

When she got to the door, she looked perplexed. "Hi."

"Hello. I'm Jim from Santa Fe Chevy. I've gotta a car to hand over to you, but I'll need your ID and I need you to sign a few forms."

She looked at me before looking back at him. "Um, there must be some kind of mistake. I didn't ask for a rental."

Jim, looked at her confused. "Uh, it's not a rental. It's bought and paid for by one..." He looked at his clipboard. "Peter Whitlock. But we're supposed to deliver it and the paperwork to one Ms. Deborah Conroy, here at this address. I have to confirm you have a valid driver's license and I'll need you to sign the title transfer before I can hand you the keys. I guess there's a note in the envelope that explains the situation."

I looked at Debbie who was utterly confused. I'm pretty sure we both were, though something told me this wasn't any mistake.

I remembered his earlier text, to tell Debbie they wouldn't take no for an answer. Jim, was looking between us, waiting a little impatiently.

It took a moment for it to really sink in.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me. He bought her a car?" I asked heatedly.

Jim looked between us, with caution. "Uhh, I would assume so?"

Peter bought her a car. Peter bought Debbie..a car.

"What?!" Debbie asked, alarmed, and utterly confused.

"Peter bought you a car." I answered.

She looked at me, completely shocked. "What?!"

I looked back at Jim. "You don't have any idea what's going on, do you?"

"No, Ma'am. We don't usually do this kind of thing every day. My boss told me to get it ready, gave me the paperwork that needed signed, and told me where to drop it off."

His boss. Which was probably the salesman that sold the car to Peter, under the condition that it would have a completely different owner. Someone we wouldn't argue with.

I looked back at Debbie. "Stay here, I'll get your purse. We'll figure this all out soon enough."

"But I can't..I mean..." She was having trouble catching her breath.

"Yes, you can. I don't think you have much of a choice right now. We'll figure it out later." I told her, I walked away to go to bedroom to get her purse.

Debbie had to sign a paper stating she received the vehicle, a 2009 White Chevy Camaro, with an estimated twenty eight miles on the odometer. The car was bought and paid for and the title would be mailed to her within a couple days. The bill of sale and proof of registration was all signed by Peter, and she would have to go down to county at some point to get her tags after she got the title.

I almost thought I was going to have to take her back to the hospital when she saw it. It was polished, it was sleek, and powerful looking. All white with nice chrome wheels. And I guess if Debbie had a dream car, the Camaro was it. The note spoke for itself.

_Garrett sends his his humble apologies for his rude behavior towards you this morning. He picked the color. You'll also be a little more safer in this car, and I only expect you to drive it with care. You're Bella's best friend and she cares deeply for you. We welcome you to a whole new world where we are gentleman at heart, and where money don't mean shit. You will always be safe with us and we both look forward to getting to know you better. A beautiful car for a beautiful lady._

_With highest regards, _

_Peter and Garrett._

_P.S. Have Bella look inside the glove compartment. Her gift is waiting for her to find it._

_P._

He assumed that Debbie would be the only one reading the note. We were standing outside and we had left it for last after Jim left. There was another service worker waiting to take him back to work.

Or maybe, Peter figured I'd be reading it, too. Who the hell really knew?

"Oh, My God." Debbie said, shaking her head. Tears leaked from her eyes. "I can't take this. Well, yes I could. Oh, I definitely could. But I can't accept this." She said somewhat breathlessly.

"Well, it's too late. It's already yours. And I don't think you'll win if you try and tell him no. Besides," I sighed. "You need a goddamn car."

She looked over at me, and scoffed a little. "I think _I_ love him."

I knew she only said it because he bought her a car, and he wormed his way into her favor. But I also knew he did it because he was just that kind. And it did solve a lot of problems for Debbie.

"I know. So do I. Give me a set of those keys." I was more than a little curious and worried for whatever was in the glove compartment. It sure as hell wasn't a car...

Debbie followed. It took some effort for her to get in and sit in the drivers seat, the car sat low, but I didn't think she was experiencing any pain at the moment. Or not paying attention to it.

"Oh, God. It's leather. It's smells so _wonderful_." She said breathlessly, and she was right. It definitely was sporting the new car smell. She caressed the steering wheel and looked around. The Camaro was fully loaded, and nice enough that it was probably right out of the showroom.

"You don't care that it's white? I thought you always liked red." I asked.

"No, I like white. I _love_ white. Garrett picked a great color." She added indifferently.

I laughed silently at her as I opened the glove box.

Inside was the car manual, and beside it was one of those large, plastic egg like containers that kids get out of little junk toy machines that you find practically anywhere. I picked it out and held it up. It was clear, and the inside was stuff with tissue paper, yet it felt heavy. For a toy.

"What the hell?" Debbie laughed.

"I have no clue." I laughed.

I popped the top, and inside was a very intricate folded up piece of paper that took forever to unfold.

_Bella, _

_The love you exhibit, the passion you garner, the power you have over me should never be taken for granted, because it's price is something no one could ever afford. _

_I know the same could be said for me. I never took it for granted. _

_I bought you a ruby. You shine simplicity, and you rain elegance. Even when you're pissed off. _

_My heart, and my soul is yours. Keep it with you. For always. _

_P. _

"Oh, Bell." Debbie said. She had been reading it with me in silence. Except when we both had to laugh.

His clean script wasn't so clean in this note. It was shaky. He had been nervous when he wrote it.

"I thought you said he didn't wax poetic?" She asked softly.

"I guess I was wrong. But when he pours it on, he pours it on thick."

I groaned, and choked back my emotion. I took the wadded up tissue paper out of the plastic bubble and carefully unwrapped it on my lap. Inside the tissue paper was a little folded up black, velvet pouch, and I poured the contents in my hand. A folded up card came out of the pouch as well.

It wasn't simple, but it was elegant. A pendant. It was an oval cut dark shaded ruby, the gemstone itself was a little on the large size, probably about four or five carats. It dropped from the chain and it was held on by two inch long strands of small diamonds. The chain was delicate, and it, and the housing on the back of the stone was white gold.

The stone looked perfect. Though it was large, it actually wasn't flashy, it didn't shine with brilliancy. But it was impeccably flawless. It was almost the color of his eyes that day.

"Wow...That's beautiful." Debbie said. She had taken the card out of my hand. "Don't put it in jewelry cleaner. It's an African Ruby. It says to just clean it with a drop of soap and water. I'd say it's a thousand bucks, easily."

I groaned. "Yeah, it's not from Claire's. It's _beautiful_."

Debbie laughed under her breath. "Lift your hair up and turn around. I'll put it on for you. You know..I can't even begin to figure out how I'm going to thank him for this."

I scoffed at her. "You won't be able to not thank him enough, even if he doesn't want you to make a grand gesture out of it. You'll stroke his ego a little, and I'll suck his dick. After I bitch at him for a minute."

Debbie laughed heartily. "Thank God I have you to do all the dirty work. Make sure you do a good job, Bell. I'm..not entirely that comfortable with them, yet. I mean, this is the stuff made of dreams. And nightmares."

"It's a little different knowing about it then coming face to face with it. It's okay to be nervous. Any normal person would be," I told her.

"Yeah, I suppose so. But I really am happy for you. You deserve to be happy, and you finally are. I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him. You smile, and it goes deep. But you're scared, too. Aren't you?" It took her a good few seconds to get the necklace clasped around my neck. The stone sat about mid-chest, to where I could look at it.

I turned around and sat back against the seat. Everything was starting to hit me hard and I was letting it show.

I nodded. "I am. I'm scared because I know there's just something he's not telling me. I just..I just get a feeling there is. And I love him so much that while I can say it doesn't matter now, could I still say it won't matter if he is? I just..I don't want to get my heart broken again. I can't go through it again."

She smoothed her hand over my hair. Much like a mother would do, but she was my best friend.

"Why do you think that?"

I swallowed and sighed. "The things I told you about. Then last night. We were in the hot tub and I got nasty with him over his lies. I told him I would hesitate to leave him if he kept it up and well..he just..he looked like he died. I mean...it was.._bad. _And I felt it, too. It's like his whole world was gonna crash down on however he answered. How he wanted to answer. But he was so scared. So scared, Debbie. It was worse..worse than when he talked about Charlotte."

Debbie was quiet for a moment.

"Let me ask you something." She said seriously. "Did you mean it? Could you leave him? I mean, have you thought about what the worse case scenario could be? Could he be cheating on you? I mean, granted I don't know if they could even consider more than one person their mate, but..yeah. That would be the clencher, don't you think?"

I hadn't really thought about what he could be hiding. At all. But I couldn't even entertain that idea with a thought.

"No. No way. It would be completely beneath Peter. He respects good women too much to ever do something like that. He's not the..typical guy. I mean, he's old, and a little refined. It's like he's the best of both worlds. The one he grew up in and the one we're in now. He can change, he can adapt, but he still holds true to his values, the ones he was raised on. And my God, Deb. You wouldn't believe how hard life as a human was for him. I don't even think it could be in his nature to sink low enough to do something like that."

I paused for a moment, because at the same time I was telling Debbie what I thought, I was trying to figure out just what he could be hiding. I was drawing blanks. "And, I don't think I could ever leave him. No matter what it is. It'd be like condemning us both to death."

She smiled at me, wryly. "Then there's your answer. You're still letting your past dictate your future, Bella. Somewhere deep down you're worried that it's all going to fall apart, and you can say you trust him now, but you really don't completely. You haven't had enough time to let it build up, and he really hasn't given you a reason to. Maybe there is something he's not telling you. But, this is just as new for Peter as it is for you. It's a risk, but there's nothing you can do. Just give him some time, and if there is something he's holding back, if he's anything like the man you say he is, he'll get there. There's no such thing as a perfect relationship. No matter who or what you are. The good relationships, the ones that last, they come with kinks. It's just a matter of working them out."

Of course she was right. But I also realized there was just no way she could completely know because she wasn't in my shoes, so to speak.

I looked at her and smiled. "How did you get so smart?"

She scoffed and wiped my face for me with her hand. "Years and years of practice at failed and fucked up relationships. And my momma raised me well. I'm a romantic at heart, Bell, but I like to keep it real, too. It's hard finding a guy these days that share the same morals in my age group, or I'm not looking good enough and my tits are attracting the riffraff."

She winced because she leaned back a little. "Let's go back inside. My ribs are hurting a little."

"Okay." I grabbed the tissue paper and the plastic case off my lap and started to step out while Debbie was pulling herself up.

"Tell me something, though."

"What?"

She looked at me, a little nervously, biting her lip a little before she looked away. "What do you know about Garrett?"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

_5:30PM._

"Dear, God. This is ludicrous. This is just fucking crazy. This is unreal. And this," Garrett held up the last journal, and tossed it on the coffee table beside the other. "This is not anything she should ever see. Because it _is_ a lie. It is not your future. Or hers. It's a fool's dream." He said heatedly, somewhat disgusted.

Didn't I know it. Of course I knew it..now. Things had changed so distinctly and had progressively accelerated. Nothing was as it seemed. Well, nothing was as it was _supposed_ to be.

It wasn't everyday you got to see another vampire look like they could be ill, or at least look like they've seen the answer to life's greatest mystery and that's that we truly never die. We exist in life and death. We exist in Heaven and Hell.

Maybe those who deserve to, live on. While those who never had any regard for the life they were given, for those who took advantage of it and the souls of others, were to exist as nothing. Stuck perpetually in existence and constantly aware, while life moved on without them, and all that they had to comfort them was the stark blackness that surrounded them. A whole lot of nothing.

Pretty fucked up.

Garrett looked like he was just one tick away from keeling over and doing his best impersonation of a corpse. That was, if his heart could beat, or if he wasn't dead already.

I told my story. The first journal pretty much sealed the fact that he did believe me. Of course there was doubt, he had it going in, but he certainly didn't have it coming out. He believed in the gift I had been given. But I think even Garrett questioned the fact that maybe it was a curse.

I had to start over from the beginning. From the day that Charlotte died to June 3, 1990, the night I first saw Bella. From falling in a hole to crawling out of one no where near a man, or a vampire. And that was a hard aspect for even Garrett to accept.

I knew what it was like to be hungry, to be so thirsty and afraid that once I was offered a drink, I'd never be able to fucking stop. But I had to. Because I had hope. I had faith, that she was real, and I went after it. I went after the answers I needed, and I found more. So much more than I ever wanted, because I fell in love with her way before I ever laid my real eyes on her.

It only took telling Garrett for me to fully realize that I never really let go of my faith, at any point in my life. I just put it off when it suited me best. And maybe God's only rule was that we didn't try to ignore that which defined each and every individual and set the believers from the non believers apart.

I only let him read the first journal and the last. I couldn't let him touch her things. Or the things she once held dear. That chest were hers. It was her life, and I would have been damned if I would have let anyone touch anymore truth than what I was willing to spill out for someone other than Bella. The bits and pieces of mine that laid between were hers, too. It felt like a mistake to even let him see that much. The most intimate, the stuff that mattered, lay in between.

He had only a glimpse of that, and I wanted to smash his eyeballs and gouge out his brain.

I would have had to help him put himself back together again, though. Wasted thoughts and overstrung emotions. They never did me any good.

But I had to appreciate him. I had to give him the benefit over the doubt. It was not a laughing matter and he didn't treat it as such. Otherwise I probably would have killed him, or died trying. I had no doubt that he had figured out that much, to say the least.

But he still read about the first time I made love to her, in that other future. And I had to swallow back a pool of venom watching him swallow his own. That fucked me up. But I didn't really do it any justice, either.

Garrett was patient however, listening to the telling of my tale. And the present as I knew it then is what garnered the most of his attention. The future had changed, and he knew it before he picked up that second book. And I had the feeling that he thought it was an injustice. To both Bella and I as he read it.

And then he voiced it.

"Why do you think it's a lie? Why the fuck would I have made that all up? What purpose would it serve?" I asked calmly.

And I was calm for the most part. A little numb, and void. Telling and showing Garrett though, as difficult as it was, was in no way ever to be considered practice for when I told Bella. The shit couldn't even begin to be compared.

We were sitting in the living room, he sat on the couch and I sat in the recliner. I had Ricky and his boys pinned down to probably be in or near the park around Midnight. He liked to sell his shit for the most part during the week, on weekends he sold early in the day, and made himself scarce at night, when patrols were stepped up.

We were both thirsty. Garrett more so than I, but the anticipation of killing Ricky was there and my throat burned something anew. Tomorrow morning the news would be reporting the execution of one man, found in the park, while the other two would be found perhaps a day or so later, floating in the river with Ricky's bullets or their paths lodged into their livers. Drug buy gone bad.

"Yours." He answered. As if I should have known that already.

My phone rang, from the coffee table. I was pretty sure that I'd receive a call after Bella and Debbie got the delivery, but that never happened. There was nothing. No phone calls or texts.

I was a little fucking irritated. I needed her voice to sooth me, and the house wasn't the same without her in it. It felt empty, and her scent that had started to cling itself to everything, even me, was starting to fade or be covered up by Garrett's.

It pissed me off. I just wanted to go lie in bed, where it was strong, where I could recall the last three days with perfect clarity, and know that it was real. Where I could smell her tears, her sweat, her arousal, and remember that nothing I ever did for her was in vain. That I finally had her, and she'd be back. She'd be back.

Garrett smiled softly a little, looking at the phone. "Bella's calling. Answer your phone." He said, sort of subdued.

I grabbed the phone and punched the button. "Hello."

There was silence first. _"Well...Hi." _

Her voice was just that soothing.

"Hi."

"_What's the matter?"_ She asked softly.

"You haven't called or anything. Why didn't you call?" I asked.

"_You told me to call before I went into work, which that's what I'm doing now."_ She said, throwing my attitude back at me. "_Deb wasn't feeling to well after she got her new car. And I can't talk long because I have to go to work. I need to know if you're coming over later."_ She said.

It pissed me off. She could have taken a minute to call.

"I might."

A long pause. _"You might?"_

"Yeah, I might."

Another long pause. _"Okay. No, you know what? If you're gonna be pissed because I didn't call you right away to thank you profusely for buying my best friend the car of her dreams and buying me the most beautiful necklace that even I can appreciate and will never take off then you can take a flying fucking leap. You know, I didn't know I was required to call you and thank you immediately. If I'd have known that, I'd have just left her ass throwing up in the goddamn bathroom and I would have drove over just to suck your dick so you'd know that I thank you and I love you for doing something so wonderfully unexpected and at the same time, something I didn't ask you to do! So you know what? Thank you. I love it. She loves it. I'm giving her your number so she can call you and thank you personally, and you can fuck off. Don't come over, because I don't give a shit. I have to go to work."_

She ended the call, by slamming the phone down. In tears, and pissed off.

"Aww, _fuck._"

"You're a fucking jerk." Garrett said with disbelief. Her phone started to ring. No one was picking it up.

"Shut up." Her house phone eventually rolled over to voice mail.

"Bella, pick up the phone. Please?" I asked, before ending the call. I tried her cell phone.

I was a fucking jerk. I didn't need her thank you and I didn't need Deb's. I just needed her. I'd let her scream at me all she wanted to if she'd just pick up the phone. I couldn't even believe myself.

She hit the talk button and ended the call immediately. She didn't want to fucking hear it. I tried again.

"Fuck. Bella!"

Her phone went immediately to voice mail. She turned it off.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I'm sorry. I've just had a shitty day without you, okay? Please call me back." Groveling wasn't going to fucking work, and right then I'm sorry didn't mean shit.

I threw the phone back on the coffee table and put my head in my hands. I for the life of me, just couldn't get anything right, and it just felt like my whole fucking world was crashing down.

"You know, it's just an observation here, but you're not heading by Alice's message very well. There's a hundred and one different things that could have happened on that side of things, and you need to calm down. It's just not about you." Garrett said, calmly.

"I know." I told him. "I just _want_ her."

"She's already yours." He said nonchalantly. "Just take into consideration the things she needs. And a little space is one of them. She has a lot on her mind, too, you know that. Her entire life has changed within the matter of days. Change is not easy for any of us, even if it is for the greater good."

"I know that, too."

"Then you'll do well to remember it. At all times." He warned.

I looked at him pointedly. "You don't think I don't know what she's going through? I do. I've spent the last nineteen years with this, Garrett, and I can't help but treat her with a certain type of calm complacency. But it's so new at the same time, too. I've been around her in one way or the other to know every little quirk about her. But it still fucks me up. She can walk into the room and take my breath away but it's like she's always been _there_. Or _here_. If she's nervous, she worries her bottom lip, but she also curls her toes in her shoes. If she's deep in thought, she pushes the hair back behind her right ear and she zones out. If she's scratching her ass, it's because it itches. If she stutters a little when she speaks, it's because she's lying, or very, very nervous. If she tells me to fuck off, I know it's only for the moment, and it pisses me off that I've pissed her off but I can't help it. I can't help it. I know this is all new for her, I know she's scared to death. But I can't help it. I can't find that fine line, and right now it just feels like she's gone. And that scares the fuck out of me."

My phone beeped, from the coffee table. It was in my hand before it even finished.

It wasn't Bella though. It was Debbie. She sent me a text.

_Thank you,.so very much. I don't know why you did this for me, but thank you. I'll do that again, in person. I sent you a gift. I took it before she called so I could send it to you._

There was an attachment below the message. A picture of Bella, that Debbie must have taken after Bella had gotten ready for work. She was wearing the black dress she bought a couple weeks ago, that dipped low in the chest and clung to her curves. She had her hair done, each lock curled with care. She had it pulled forward on her shoulders, hiding the hickey on her neck. She was smiling, daringly, from ear to ear. Her eyes tired, yet bright, and full of happiness.

That ruby stood out against her pale skin, and just the look on her face said to me alone that 'if you want me, come and get me'.

And every other fuck up with a pecker tonight would see that and take his chance, and I wanted to slaughter them all. Because that there, was mine, and mine alone. I always hated the fact that she worked in that place. I always hated the fact that Tony eye fucked her every chance he got. Vince at least treated her like a lady, though he eye fucked her too plenty of times, and he'd have to run of the floor because of the boner he'd be packing after she'd dance with him.

I even wanted to murder Vern a time or two, for putting his hand on the small of her back as he guided her to her truck at night. She was plenty capable of guiding herself. He didn't need to touch her, he just needed to watch her back.

Which he always did. Which is why I could never kill him. Or Tony or Vince. Because they always did look after her. In one way or the other.

She was living her life. Her life. And I wanted to be the only one in it, and fuck the rest. Because _I_ thought she'd never need more than me.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

I couldn't keep the groan contained. "I gotta go see her. Right now. I gotta talk to her."

I went to stand up, and Garrett was in front of me, pushing me back down. I almost bit the fucking hand that pushed on my shoulder.

"You'll do no such thing." He growled. "You're going to give her a little space right now, and give her some room to breathe. Besides, she'll chew you up and spit you out right now." He took my phone out of my hand to look at the message. He scoffed. "She didn't even thank me. I think I picked out a good color."

I didn't fight him, though I sure felt like taking his fucking head off. I wasn't completely irrational. It took me only a second to realize that if I went down there I'd no doubt cause a scene and neither one of us needed that right now.

I took my phone back ignoring his remark about Debbie and sent her a text back. Garrett's hand was still pushing my shoulder down. "Get your fucking hand off me." I knocked his arm away. "I'm not going anywhere."

_Your welcome and Thank YOU. Is she pissed?_

Garrett sighed and sat down on the coffee table, picking up the last journal and thumbing through it.

"Let me ask you something, Peter. When did the future change for you?"

I leaned back in the chair and looked up at the ceiling as I waited to see if Debbie would respond. "I already told you. Bella asked Seth to come down. It should have never happened."

He was silent for a moment. "No. That's not what I meant. I meant when did you first notice it? When did it change for you?"

The phone rang in my hand. It was Debbie.

"Hello."

"_Um..hey. I thought I'd call. I hate texting."_ She laughed.

"That's fine. How you feeling?" I asked.

"_Uh..a little stiff and sore. It's my fault Bella didn't call you earlier. We got to talking and then I got a little sick and well..before we knew it it was time for her to get ready to go in."_

"Yeah, um..I jumped the gun a little bit. That's my fault." I told her.

"_Oh, you just miss her. She knows that. But she is pissed. She just left."_

I failed at keeping the guilty groan from escaping my throat. "Yeah, I know. I'll straighten it out with her later. If there is a later."

Debbie hesitated for a moment. _"You know, I don't know you, Peter, but you've got it just as bad as she does. She's been thinking about you all day. Talking about you all day. It's not my place to interfere but I think you both need to..calm down a little. A little space is healthy, you know." _

I glanced at Garrett, who tried and failed at trying to not look like he was fucking listening.

Debbie's words struck a chord. Because although she didn't know me, I sure as hell knew a lot about her. I had to be careful. Careful how I treated her, because she didn't have the same rapport for me as I had for her, and I had it, just because of Bella.

But it also was an advantage. Not for me, but for Garrett.

Bella had been talking about me, all day. Good or bad, it was still good.

"Wow, Deb. You and Garrett should get together and compare notes. He just told me the same thing. I know I do. I'm just in love with her."

She laughed on the other end. _"I know you are, and she loves you. So quit acting like an ass. She's missing you, too. You'll just love her that much more when you do see her and talk to her." _

"Yeah. I know. Thanks for um..being there for her. She cares about you, a lot."

"_I care about her, too. And thank you for the car. I can't even imagine how I'm going to pay you back for this." _She started to cry.

"Don't imagine it. Don't worry about it. Just keep being the friend you are to Bella. That's all I ask."

"_I will."_

"Is Diane coming to sit with you tonight?"

She seemed surprised by my question, and I only asked because I was only beginning to understand that if she didn't feel well, maybe she needed to be watched.

"_We weren't able to reach her. Bell's just going to call and make sure I'm okay and I'll call her if I need her to come home. I'm just sore and tired. I'm getting ready to lay down for a little bit."_

Well, you call if you need anything. Anything at all."

"_I'll do that, but I should be fine. Um..did..Garrett really pick the color?"_ She asked a little too hopefully.

"Yep." I looked at Garrett, who looked nothing but stoic.

"_Well, um...tell him I said Thank you. I love it. It won't show the dust and dirt as bad."_

"I'll tell him."

"_Thank you. Again. Both of you. I'll um..talk to you later."_

"Most definitely. Take care, Deb. Call if you need anything."

"_I will. Thanks. Bye."_ She ended softly.

"Bye."

I hung up the phone and looked at Garrett. "There. She acknowledged you, you ass. Happy now?" I asked. I threw the phone on the table.

He nodded, and he really struggled at not trying to smile. "I am. So when did it change for you?"

It wasn't really an easy question, because it was the night that everything changed. "Last Wednesday night. I was stuck on the interstate behind a pile up. I didn't think anything of it because my goddamn life wasn't what I saw. I should have been there by last call. I should have been in the bar, and I should have been down on that floor with her getting ready to knock a few heads. I wouldn't have had to touch them."

I watched Garrett, find the passage to read again, his face perplexed.

"She wasn't ever supposed to walk out of there alone. I didn't know what to do. I thought maybe..it was me. Maybe I had..gotten something wrong. I thought that maybe I'd still be able to walk in there and set them straight, get her to trust me a little bit, and ask her out. I just got there and parked on the side of the road in front of the club when she walked out the front door. She should have been parked in the back. I didn't know what to do. It was obvious then that something had changed. The only problem was...I was gonna kill them. The second Billy grabbed her I knew I was gonna fucking kill them."

Garrett was watching me. "Why didn't you?"

"Bella. It freaked her out a little bit. Then the next day, her pipe broke in her kitchen, and I told her about my family. I told her about my mother and father. My brothers and sister. About me. I never should have done that until after I was through telling her about Jasper up at Sandia. I never should have been there that day, at all. It just kind of..went that way. And a whole lot more unexpected happened, and...as fucked up as it was...it was the best. It was better than what really happened."

It was. That day was now etched inside my head. That hour we spent on her kitchen floor. That kiss, that she took the initiative to start. The first time I ever really kissed Bella Swan.

Garrett was smiling at me, probably because I was.

He cleared his throat. "Don't take this the wrong way, Peter, but is it possible...is it possible you've always had it wrong?"

"What do you mean?"

He sighed, shakily. "There's not a doubt in my head that you've told me the truth. That this is all real. I mean, the proof, it is there inside that chest." He motioned with his head to the bedroom. "But is it the truth as you wanted to see it? Is it possible you fell in love with her while you dreamed of her?"

I scoffed at him. "Well, yeah, I can say I did now. I just didn't realize it. What are you trying to say?"

He was silent for a moment. "I'm trying to get a grasp on this and look at it from different angles. There's no doubt you were...gifted with this. But what I'm trying to figure out is if you..created your future the way you wanted it to go, when it always had a different outcome to begin with."

"I didn't fucking concoct this shit out of thin air, Garrett. What I saw was _real_. I wrote that goddamn book years ago, when it was all still fresh in my head. It still is. That's what I saw." I pointed to the book in his hands. "That's what was given to me. Something else..someone else changed it and I don't know fucking why." I said vehemently.

I wasn't crazy. I didn't make that shit up out of thin air. I didn't want to change it. Especially not now.

He thought for a moment while he studied me. "Has it occurred to you, that maybe it changed, because there was something _you_ forgot to do?"

"I didn't _forget_ to do a goddamn thing. Every time she needed me, I was always there."

"That's my point, Peter. Every time she did need you, you were there. But right now, I am talking about _you_."

I could see his point. "I know what you're getting at. I know now that cleaning up my act just wasn't something I was supposed for Bella, but for me, too. I realize that, better than anybody. I did everything I was supposed to do. Now I just have to..tell her the truth."

Garrett had been looking down at the book in his hands when I said that. His head shot up. "You can't do that."

"Garrett, I _have_ to. I can't live without not telling her. Believe me, I've tried telling myself I can never tell her, but I have to. I owe it to her, goddammit."

Venom burned inside my eyes. There was really no choice, no sense in putting off the inevitable, no matter how hard it was going to be. No matter what was going to happen by doing so, even if it killed me. I had to tell her the truth.

"Listen to me." He rearranged himself so he was sitting directly in front of me, to look at me pointedly. "You can't tell her. Not right now. Nothing is what it seems anymore, and it's not your doing. No one could blame you for moving forward, or trying to fix it, because you've been living it for nineteen years. I mean, the power of this gift, would drive anyone insane. You're not insane. You adapted. You changed with it, and when it changed, so did you. It's remarkable."

"Garrett, I don't do good with this at all. I fall apart every fucking chance I get."

He was quick to respond. "And you pick yourself right back up again. You're a fighter, Peter. You always have been. Life hasn't been good to you, at all. It's knocked you down so many times it's so easy to see why Charlotte gave you this gift, if it was hers to give in the first place."

Garrett was looking at a larger picture, not that I could blame him. He was looking at it as a gift from God. Because if Charlotte could do this, it was a gift only he could give her.

I could see the proof in his eyes. The power of belief.

"So what do I do?"

He looked at me pointedly. "This book is a lie. But it's also..a guide. This book, all of them, would tell her to take it for what it represents. _Your_ faith. Not hers, but yours. And in a future that is no more, she would have accepted it, but it's a...topic..no, a feeling, that we all must discover inside our hearts. A belief we must all embrace with our own souls. A connection we must all feel within ourselves. You would be asking her to believe in yours, not her own. Now, she's had a taste of it. A taste of her own faith. And it's up to her as to what she decides to do with it. She needs some time to figure it out for herself. You've thrown so much at her right now, that anymore just might be detrimental. To her and to you. You can't chance it. Not right now."

"Jesus Christ. You're telling me not to tell her. What kind of fucking help are you?" I asked him shakily.

"The kind that you can could put the blame on, if anything should fucking go awry. Not that it still wouldn't be your fault, because it would." He laughed, but even he knew it wasn't funny. It was just as mind boggling and upsetting for him, because he always believed in the truth.

I shook my head at him. "So what, what do I do?" I asked with defeat, because I was defeated. I was lost.

He sighed. "You gave her time in this book. You'll do the same now. You'll give her time to figure things out for herself. You have to give her time. Charlotte even told you, too, correct? I don't think she's ever left you, Peter. Believe it or not, I think she's still trying to help you. To do right by you. So, heed the message. When the time is right? I don't know. But you've come this far that I think you will know when the time is right, or somebody will fucking tell you." He grumbled, shaking his head in disbelief, though he believed.

He turned a little, to pick up the other journal. He held it up. "This book? And the rest? They are her things. They are the story of her life. But this book, this book was yours, together. Well, it's not the truth. It's not the future the two of you have been living, nor will it ever be. It's the lie. And it has no place in your world now."

He was holding both the journals, and he held the first one up to me. "You have any more of these? That don't have your words in them?" He handed me the journal.

"I have one."

"Then keep it for her. Let her tell the story of how she met you if she so chooses. Write her a letter. Tell her why you did it, because she'll need to know. You have a way with words, my friend, and it'll soothe your soul for right now, if you put it on paper." He said, softly.

Garrett stood up, and flitted over to the fire place, but not before he placed the other book on the coffee table. I watched him stacked some kindling and a couple logs inside, taking some lighter fluid and dousing the pile. He took one long stove match, and struck it against the brick, throwing it onto the kindling. It ignited, in heavily blues and greens, with striking orange and red tips.

He turned around to look at me. "Decide now, what is right. For the both of you. Hold on to the past, or burn the mockery of your future."

I shook my head at him in disbelief. "Symbolic much, you asshole? Jesus Christ. I'm not a drama loving son of a bitch like you are. I have a shred all."

"Humor me." He said, dryly.

I sighed and lifted myself up, though I really couldn't feel my legs. I picked up the book and walked over to the fire place, glancing down at both in my hands to make sure I was throwing the right fucking one, and tossed it on top of the logs.

We watched the flame catch it, and it slowly started to burn.

"Feel better?" He asked, staring into the fire.

"Not really." I said. "But I can live with it. Bella might not be able to."

Garrett sighed. "I don't suppose that you could, but at least you're thinking about the both of you. I believe it's the right way. There's one more thing you need to do."

"What's that?"

He looked at me, and spoke with conviction. "Write that letter. That chest in everything in it is her life, and your betrayal. Don't take to chance that she'll discover it alone. Take that chest and get it out of her fucking sight."

I watched the book burn until it disintegrated and drifted up in large pieces of burning ash up the flute.

The future was unknown. It _was_ symbolic.

"I need to know something." He asked, four minutes and thirty seven seconds later. He had twitched in his boots forty three times.

It wasn't hard to figure out what he was thinking about.

"I usually camp out in the larger ash, near the front of Bella's house. She's a woman of worth, Garrett. She's assertive, opinionated, trustworthy, and she likes to take things slow. Debbie's not as vain as you think her to be. She's a little self conscious but she's also very confident. And very intelligent."

"Family?" He asked quietly.

"Her mother died a few years back when she got cancer. She took it pretty hard. Her father died years ago from a heart attack. She has one brother, who lives in Vermont, but they don't see each other that often."

He didn't say anything.

"The more you listen to her heart, the easier it gets. But you need to be careful. Stay diligent. Don't wake her up if she's sleeping."

I looked over at him, because he still hadn't moved.

"I'll pick you up at eleven."

He nodded. "Thank you."

He was gone.

I couldn't help but grin.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%% **

_12:45am, Santa Fe, New Mexico_

Three men stood inside a small and barren park, lit up by the moonlight of a full moon. They were gathered around a picnic table that sat next to a swing, away from the road and prying eyes. Away from the streetlights that sparsely lit up the front of the park, and away from those that would take notice of them.

The larger man, with dark hair, and dark eyes, was Hispanic. Tall and broad, and ever watchful for anything out of the ordinary. The other two, one white and another Hispanic male, had nothing on his girth. They were considerably a lot smaller than the other male. But all equal and careless in mind, with rotted hearts.

They were really nothing out of the ordinary that hung around the park at night. Further up inside the park, by the street, was three more inhabitants of the area, relaxing on the picnic table and coming down from a wave a drug induced euphoria.

They'd live to see another day.

What made those three men so unique that night, was they were men who had raped a girl, no older than fifteen. She had told her mother that they had tried to sell her Crack, and that brought the law down, asking questions. A bought-off cop would tell Ricky, the large good looking Hispanic male, who made the tip.

He and those other two raped that girl. Beating her body within an inch of her life, before they cut out her tongue. She would never be able to speak again, not without extensive surgery, something her nor her family could ever afford. And she was told that if she ever spoke of it, in one way or the other, her mother would have much more cut out, while she watched.

Fear was enough to shut anyone up, especially if it was fear for another.

Ricky left another reminder of who he was and what he could do on her stomach. She would carry all the reminders for the rest of her life. But she would soon find out someone would get the best of him.

He was no one of consequence, just another fucking low life son of a bitch making his living by poisoning others with his callousness and cruelty.

But one of the other boys with him was.

Jose. Jose was a descendant of a man once known as Carlos Vasquez. And Carlos always did right by his family. Even after he died.

They didn't see the two men in the small grove of saplings beside them, as Ricky spoke to his friends about heading home and putting it to his old lady. The grove was planted to bring new life to the park, when all they provided at that point in time was death, and cover.

They didn't realize right away that one was now standing in front of them, when the three further up the park took a walk, and staggered out down the sidewalk.

He was very pale, but strikingly handsome. A strong jaw, a strong chin, deep set eyes, and golden blond hair tucked behind his ears. He wore a black stocking cap, to conceal himself better, because he glowed in the moonlight. The man himself was dressed in a black, long sleeve shirt, and a pair of jeans. He was tall, and his shoulders had mass, and though his body looked like it exhibited strength, it was nothing compared to the strength he could really put forth. In body, in mind, and in heart.

Ricky, Jose, and Mark, didn't realize it, until he was just there. He was that quick.

Ricky stared at the tall and broad man, whose eyes burned brightly yet were black as the night. Filled with hate. But they were not dull, like Ricky's. They were not soulless. He smiled at Ricky.

Ricky blinked. Surprised by his appearance.

"Hi, Ricky." The man greeted. He spoke quietly. His voice deep, and enigmatic.

The other two boys heard a noise behind them, they turned around to find a slightly smaller man, with equally dark eyes, staring at them while he smiled with welcome. His dark hair was pulled away from his own odd-colored face.

He was just as handsome as the other, but he had the eyes of a snake.

They were beautiful, and all three of men found them intimidating, and malevolent.

A threat.

Ricky had also heard the noise, and he turned as well to see the other man, who smiled wryly at him and nodded. He turned around to address the one standing in front of him. Ricky was ever the brave fool.

"Who the fuck are you?" Ricky bit out.

The man chuckled, looking back at his friend, who was starting to swallow at a progressive rate. "I'm the mailman, Ricky."

The man behind the other two boys started to chuckle. Ricky, Jose, and Mark, all laughed with nervousness and disbelief. Their eyes, stuck in rapture, yet nervous, flashed back and forth between the the two men.

"The mailman?" He asked, laughing short.

The thought occurred briefly to him that maybe this man was a new contact of sorts to fill up his supply. Though he wasn't told he would be changing.

His right hand, made it's way up his backside, to grip the stock of the weapon that was tucked in his jeans.

"You got a delivery for me?" He asked, jutting his chin out at the man. Holding his ground, his finger wrapping around the trigger.

The man in front of him chuckled underneath his breath, looking down at Ricky's boots. He was relaxed, though no one would want to carry the weight he bear.

He half smiled and sneered at Ricky, and the rage he felt lit his eyes with something new. It made his body shake, the need for redemption. But it was not his own.

The man's mouth was pooling. He turned his head to the side and spat on the ground. "No, Ricky. You're the package, and I'm sending you straight to hell."

Ricky didn't even have enough time to even flinch his shoulder enough so he could lift the gun from his waist.

His backside collided into a tree with bone crushing force, the shoulder of the arm reaching for his gun shattered, he felt it in his gums. His breast bones caving under the weight at which he was being gripped; and his lungs crushed under the weight which made it impossible to breath one last breath.

The teeth that had sliced through the flesh at his neck that set him on fire for a moment, was nothing compared to the excruciating pain that briefly registered within the rest of his upper body, nor could it compare with the feeling that every last part of his being was being pulled out of him with a force that defied gravity.

Ricky didn't have enough air, or enough time, to scream. But he knew he was dying.

And he did.

There was no light at the end of his tunnel. Only darkness awaited him, and it was hot there.

Only Jose could manage to cry out a small plea, but there was no one around to come help him. Even if there was, they would fail too.

But it was not a plea that left his lips. It was recognition.

"_Angeles de la muerte."_

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

_*_**B*E*L*L*A***

_2:30AM_

"_I'm Sorry, Bella. I'm sorry. I've just had a shitty day without you, okay? Please call me back."_

I threw the phone into my bag and started my truck. I had carried it around with me all night. I listened to his message about ten times, and I called Debbie every two hours to make sure she was doing all right.

She had suffered a spell during the late afternoon, and had thrown up. It had worried me severely, because of her concussion. But she was ever persistent that it was just the Vicodin making her sick to her stomach, and maybe her nerves had something to do with it also. She could have been right. I left the house only on the agreement that if she felt funny at all or if she threw up anymore, we'd take her back in to get her checked out.

She was fine, or at least that's what she told me. She slept on and off for about six hours, going back to sleep after I made sure she was coherent a couple of times.

"_What's your name?"_

"_Deborah Anne Conroy."_

"_Where do you live?" _

"_1286 Brown Street."_

"_What kind of a car do you drive?"_

"_A 2009 White Chevy Camaro. Bought and paid for by a vampire appropriately named as 'DICK'. He's got a friend that likes the way my tits slosh. I think he's cute." _

The last time I spoke to her was around twelve thirty, and she was getting ready to take a shower and cook something up for dinner.

My evening at work had been less than stellar. We were short handed, and busy, and I never thought it was going to end. I hadn't been off my feet once all night, unless it was to go to the bathroom. I started my period, two hours after my shift had started. Some idiot turned into me with a pitcher of beer, pouring it down the front of my dress.

I nearly slapped the shit out of Mandy when she eyed me and my hickey like _I_ was the tramp. I was in no mood for her petty shit and put an end to it by asking her about what the fuck she was looking at. I must have been shooting daggers at her when I asked because she didn't look at me or speak to me for the rest of the night.

Tony pulled me aside because of my 'shitty fuckin' attitude'. That pissed me off. It was okay for everyone else to have an off day, but not Bella. I plastered on a fake smile and worked under the watchful eye of my boss for the rest of the night. I 'Accidentally' bumped into him with my tray that held an old beer bottle someone used to spit his tobacco juice in. It didn't make near the mess I hoped it would make, but it still grossed him out.

That made me happy. If only for a moment. At either rate, his attitude was just as equally shitty for the rest of the night, but he left me alone. After he mumbled out and called me a hormonal bitch.

Maybe I was.

I was dead tired, and I smelled like smoke and beer. I was pissed, happy, sad, and in love, all at the same time. It all jumbled up into just feeling really aggravated. I was pissed at Peter for acting like a dick, happy because life was so much better than it was a week ago, sad because I was stuck at work, and missing him so, so much.

I felt out of sorts all night. Like I didn't belong anywhere anymore. I knew it was because I left the house on a bad note, and left Peter, but I couldn't help but think that maybe I could never look at the real world the same ever again.

The son of a bitch made me so mad before I had left for work, that I had to write my orders down for the first hour. His display of attitude earlier had pissed me off to no end, not that I couldn't understand why, but it was still just wrong. Deb had made it a point to tell me she had talked to him during one of our short conversations. I didn't know how to feel. I was elated that he missed me just as much as I missed him, yet I was pissed because he was just cruel. It hadn't been an easy day. The only solace I could find was that perhaps he was somewhere 'sweating' it out. But I really couldn't find any solace in that at all.

I missed him and I loved him. And it really just sucked.

I had moved Deb's new car into my garage earlier until she could get her insurance set up. The lights from the living room were filtering out the shaded windows as I pulled into the drive.

Peter's truck was no where to be seen. I tried not to let the disappointment get to me. Maybe he wasn't through being a dick just yet.

I got out of the truck and walked up to the front door. As I opened the door, I heard Debbie laugh, and when I walked in it took a moment for the sight to register.

"Hey, Bell."

Debbie was on her end of the couch, sitting Indian style in her pajamas, her body turned towards the other end, where Garrett sat. She had the blanket over her legs.

Debbie had asked me about him this afternoon, and for the most part told me to go stick it when I tried to talk to her about the possibility of getting involved with him. I ended up telling her what I knew, which was really nothing at all.

Garrett had gotten some new clothes. He was dressed in a white button down shirt, which was tucked into a pair of destroyed and loose blue jeans. He was sitting on my couch, with his right leg tucked up, his body turned towards Debbie.

He nodded. "Hello, Bella."

"Hi, Garrett." I put my bag down on the table beside the wall. I'm sure I was looking between them in shock. "What..um..are you doing here?"

Debbie looked at me and answered for him. Actually she looked at me like I was supposed to keep it reigned in, or they're would be hell to pay. "Garrett showed up after you called the last time. He just wanted to make sure I was okay, since I was all by myself." She threw a smile at him, one he returned.

"Oh." I nodded at him, and smiled, respectfully. Garrett wasn't wearing any contacts, and his were a brighter shade of burgundy. He had fed. And he had been here for almost two hours. I glanced down at the coffee table, and there was a small bouquet of dainty white daisies, purple irises, and pink carnations, all tied in a white bow, sitting in one of my tall, clear drinking glasses.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Bella, Garrett is two hundred and sixty four years old. He was in the American Revolutionary War. He fought along side Benedict Arnold himself. Well, until he was captured in Quebec City." Debbie said, somewhat excitedly.

That peeked my interest. "Really? Were you at the battle for Fort Ticonderoga?" I asked him.

He didn't have a chance to answer for himself.

"No. He was recruited in Maine as they marched north. And changed shortly after when the other colonists threw him out of camp because he caught smallpox by three lovely angels of death." Debbie informed.

I looked at her. Garrett chuckled and looked down shyly. "She's editing." He mumbled, before looking back up at her, his eyes bright and keen with interest.

"I'm sure she is." I gave her my best 'what the hell' look while laughing. She shook it off.

Garrett seemed a little on edge, like he wasn't sure if he should leave or not.

Maybe he didn't need to.

I sighed, and looked at him. "So, where's Peter?"

He looked at me softly. "He said he was coming over soon. He had some work to do after we went hunting. He's...sorry, Bella. He really is." Garrett's nose tweaked as he sniffed and grimaced a little bit. He looked away.

It was either the beer, or my period, or maybe both. It was enough to make me groan internally. I had almost forgotten that Alice said I didn't smell to well when I menstruated. That was just great.

I shook off my thoughts. "I know. So am I."

"How was work?" Debbie asked.

"About the same as always. Some guy poured a pitcher of beer down my dress so um..I'm gonna go take a shower." I smiled at Garrett who looked at me gently, and started to walk towards the hall.

"I had chicken and rice. You want me to heat you up some leftovers?" Debbie asked.

"No, that's okay. You could make me a pot of coffee though, if you feel up to it. Garrett, stay awhile. Keep Deb company." I said, just in case he decided to leave.

"Thank You. I'd love to."

I took a quick shower. It did nothing to really wake me up, it just made me more tired. I figured I'd give Deb and Garrett some privacy so they could get to know each other and take my phone with me outside, so I could call Peter to see what sort of mood he was in, or if he was still coming over. Or, he might have showed up while I was in the bathroom, I didn't really know.

It was chilly when I was outside earlier, so I threw on a sweatshirt and a pair of flannels with my thongs. Peter hadn't shown up.

Deb had made me a pot of coffee, and I told them I was going to go sit outside, and call Peter. Garrett just smiled at me, and I listened to Deb talk about when she used to visit her brother in Vermont as I poured my cup.

I went out to the back porch, sitting my cup down on the table. I started a fire in the fireplace. The storms had blew in twigs and dead leaves, and there was a sandy grit on my porch.

I grabbed the broom by the door and had just started to sweep, when the hairs stood up on the back of my neck, and my ears started to ring.

Dull and quietly. Lulling me, making my skin prick all over. Making my heart thud heavily.

I was being watched.

There was no mistaking that. It was almost as if I could feel his hesitation. I didn't know why I knew, or how I knew it, or why my body reacted this way, but it was a odd and wonderful feeling all at the same time.

I had to turn my head down, so he couldn't see my smile.

When I was in order again, I threw the broom down, and walked right off the porch, side stepping my garden and walking into the thin grove of ash and poplar. The leaves blocked out the moon, and it was dark, so I stopped about five feet in.

I looked around, I couldn't see anything. "I know you're here. I can feel it. This stalking shit has got to stop." I said, with a lilt in my voice that hopefully he'd perceive as not serious.

"It's very unnerving. And dumb." I added, softly. It was so fitting that he'd come to me like this.

I heard a whip through the air and a snap of a branch before he landed in front of me. It still made me jump back.

"I was gonna come up. I figured you'd come outside. I thought I'd just let you get settled down before..I don't know. You felt the need to rip me a new one." He said quietly.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, but he looked calm and complacent. He had changed his clothes since this morning, or yesterday, and he was wearing a long, black sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans with probably his hikers. But he was also wearing a black stocking cap, and his hair was pushed behind his ears, and the ends curled up.

I cramped.

His jaw would have my lips all over it.

I wanted to lick him.

Taste him. Breathe him. Love him. I still had every intention of 'thanking' him properly, the impatient bastard.

"Yeah. You're a jerk. Is your momentary lapse of acting like a complete asshole over with? Because I gotta tell ya, that shit's only worth it when you're around and we can have hot, angry, make up sex afterward. Which by the way, _ain't_ _happening_. One, I'm still pissed. Two, I started my period. But it would have been oh, so good. So, so good." I smiled at him. Not forgetting every reason I was mad at him, but forgetting it all the same.

Peter was smiling apologetically through my entire spill. Except towards the end, when he started to laugh under his breath a little.

"When did you get so mouthy? Hmm?" He asked quietly, seductively. He stepped forward once. I took a step back. I wanted to close the distance to nil, but we were gonna go through the motions of getting there first.

"I don't know. I guess I've been hanging around you too much. Which I did, the last three days. You could have cut me a little slack. It's not like I didn't think about you all day and all night. Because I did." A sob bubbled out of my throat. If he only just realized how much I missed him.

"I'm Sorry." He said. No real voice behind it.

"It's okay. So am I."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for." He said, with a slight tone of irritation.

"Yeah, I do. I could have spared a minute to call. It's just..I didn't really think about it. Deb wasn't feeling up to par, plus she was asking me about Garrett, and we were just..talking."

"I didn't expect you to call just to say thank you or anything. I just wanted you to call so I could hear your voice." He admitted.

"I know you didn't. I waited until it was later because I figured if I talked to you and I heard your voice, it would make my night back to work that much better. Instead I almost knocked the shit out of Mandy and nutted Tony."

"Why did you all most nut Tony, what did he do?" He asked a little heatedly.

I paused for a moment because his tone took me off guard. "Nothing. He got on me about my attitude, because I had a shitty one tonight. Why are you getting mad?"

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders had tensed and I watched them fall. "I'm not. It's just I noticed he eye fucked you once the first night we met. I don't care for him too much."

"Well, I don't doubt that, he eye fucks everybody. But he's a good guy most of the time." I studied him for a moment. His behavior lead me to my next question. "Are you jealous?" I asked, smiling at him.

He smiled mischievously. "Maybe. According to Garrett, you're in heat. So I don't want nobody trying to put the moves on what's mine."

"What?"

He laughed. "Garrett hasn't dipped his wick in years, Bella. He tried to peg you as a dog in heat this morning. You can give him shit for it later." He took a step forward. I took a step back, and too the side, because I hit a bush. I had a distinct feeling he was just kidding around.

"I will."

He turned his eyes on me. "Why do you keep moving away from me?"

_Because if I touch you, I might not be able to ever let go._

"Why do you keep trying to move closer?"

"Because I wanna kiss you. And _smell_ you." He said. And he said it in way that said that's exactly what he wanted to do. I knew how well he could smell.

A groan almost left my throat. "You can smell me from where you're standing."

"Not good enough."

"I smell gross." I said, shivering. Though I wasn't really cold. He took a step forward, and I took a step back. Backing right into a small tree.

"Not completely. You just took a shower." He moved quickly, until he was right up in front of me. Against me. My heart thudded loudly. My blood boiled. "I was here when you got home. You smelled like stale beer earlier, and sweat. And I could smell your blood. I kind of liked that."

I groaned. And cramped. Really bad this time. Peter trapped my arms down and wrapped his arms around me, cushioning my back with his hands instead of me leaning against the bark. He didn't completely press into me, but I could feel him on my stomach. He nuzzled my hair first, breathing deeply through his nose.

"I..uh..I won't have sex with you. If that's what you're looking for."

"I'm not. But I'm not opposed to it at all, just so you know. I can settle for hot and bothered." His tongue shot out to lick quickly at lightly inside my ear. My body racked, with one long shudder.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was a definite no, for now. "Oh, I'm hot. Definitely hot." His nose trailed over the skin at my cheek, his lips parted to exhale cold air against my skin before he finally found my lips.

His kiss was soft. Cold and wonderful. And he didn't seek anything other than the simplicity, the gentleness, of just kissing my lips. His breath was wonderful, and God, how I missed it. His taste. His body. Everything about him. He laid his forehead against mine, his new favorite thing to do, and sighed long, and deep. Rocking us both back and forth, hardly moving at all.

"Deb sent me your picture earlier. You looked beautiful. I stared at it most of the night."

"I guess I didn't have a completely shitty night. I got quite a few compliments on my necklace. It really is beautiful."

"Where's it at?" He asked quietly.

Peter's left arm gave so I could lift my hand up between us to stretch out the neck of my sweatshirt. "It's right here."

He fumbled with the chain to pull out the stone. "It's nice. I knew it would look good on you. But you don't have to wear it all the time if you don't want."

"No, I'll wear it. I stared at it when I could because it reminds me of your eyes. Thank you."

"Sorry you had a shitty night." He leaned down to kiss me again.

"What did you do with yours?"

He tucked the necklace back in my shirt. "Took Garrett hunting. Gave him shit because he's got the hots for Deb. Killed Delasantos. Called Parker to make sure everything was going okay with the trusses. Which it is. Did a little drawing for another development out in Oklahoma City. Thought about you the _entire_ time. Vampire brain, and all that."

"You killed Delasantos? Who'd Garrett kill?"

His lip twitched up in a smile when I asked him for some reason. Maybe because the thought didn't put me off as bad as it once had. "The other two that raped that girl. That reminds me, I won't be in town on Thursday or a good part of Friday. I'm taking Marcy's ashes down to the Caribbean. And I'm taking Garrett with me so we can hunt. Think you can live without me that long?"

My right hand was in his and he played with my fingers while he breathed in my scent at my neck. "Probably not. Sure you'll be able to separate Garrett away from Deb? She'll be in heat by the end of the week, we're always a week off. He already looks like he wants to hump her leg."

Peter snickered. "I'll drag him on the plane. You're not so opposed to the idea of Garrett and Debbie now, are you?" He asked gently as he kissed around my chin.

"I don't like it, but I can't stop it. I just don't want her to get hurt. In one way or the other."

Peter pulled back to look at me. "He's not gonna kill her. He promised me that he'll be diligent with himself and anything that concerns her. They might become good friends and it might become something more, we don't know. But you can trust him, Bella. If it's any consolation, he has every intention of staying for awhile, if not permanently. The son of a bitch has a thing for clothes. He had me at the mall for two hours, and filled up half the closet and the dresser in the spare bedroom. He's gonna work around the house and do some other things for me, so..yeah. It'll be okay."

"Wow. Your wallet's really getting a workout, isn't it?" I asked.

He grimaced and smiled. "I spent a good forty grand today. It's alright. It was money well spent."

"You bought my friend a car, Peter. I still can't believe you did that."

He pulled back to study me. "Are you upset that I did that? Would you have preferred a car?"

"No. NO. But my God, Peter. A car? You hardly know her. Trying to buy my friend off so she'd like you?"

He gave me a condescending look. "No. She's _your_ friend, and you care about her. It just seemed like the right thing to do after kidnapping you all weekend and making her worry about you laying in a ditch somewhere, plus, she _was_ out looking for you when she got hit. Besides all that, I can't help but want your free time to be exclusive to me. That wouldn't happen if you'd have to take her everywhere she needed to go, even if it was just temporary."

There was nothing but truth in that entire statement. "Well, it _was_ a nice thing to do. She likes you, too. She just thinks you're a little high strung. And my time, well, it is exclusive to you, but I'm gonna spare her some, too. I got my check today. I'm going to take her out for prime rib. Maybe we'll do that while your gone."

He was kissing the corner of my right lip softly, letting his tongue linger on my skin. "I can share. I'm all about sharing."

I reached up with my left hand to run my fingers through his hair, but I met his stocking cap instead. "What's with the Bond gear? Not that I don't like it."

"I like to look my part. I look good, don't I?"

I laughed against his lips. "Cocky asshole."

He pulled back an inch to laugh underneath his breath and bite his lip and shrug. "I don't look as good as you do. But I gotta ya, you do kinda stink."

I groaned and tried to pull back to hide my embarrassment. A period was a period, but it just took on a whole new meaning with a vampire. He just pulled me closer and held on that much tighter. "Oh, God."

He buried his face in my neck, chuckling silently. He pulled me away from the tree enough to slide his hands down my back and underneath my sweatshirt, and kneaded my flesh slowly on the way up. His hands were ice cold, I shivered against him.

"That feels so good."

"Can I stay awhile? I'll rub your back and I'll rub your feet, and anything else you want me to rub. You gotta be tired though."

This was when I couldn't get enough of him. And the idea of what he said he'd do was one I wasn't opposed to at all. But it also reminded me of just what I wanted to do to him.

That and his cock poking me in the stomach.

I knew we had our problems, and I knew we still needed to discuss Alice, but none of that mattered anymore. He was here, and he was singing to me. And I realized that no matter what, we'd make it.

I had faith in Peter. I wasn't afraid he'd ever leave me, not like Jake or Edward had. It was all so new and wonderful and Deb was right. All relationships had their kinks, and we'd work it out. I believe the love we had for one another was strong enough that nothing in the world could test it, could strain it, or end it.

I never felt so alive. Yet all I wanted to do was die, just to be with him forever. My heartbeat, the things that made me a child-bearing woman was worth the sacrifice. I could, and would, give all of it up just for him.

I had faith in him. It was all the faith I needed. There were things to figure out, but I wasn't so afraid anymore. It would just take some time.

We had only just begun. And five hundred years from now, I hoped and dreamed that I could say the same thing again.

"Yeah. I want you to. But I got take care of something first, and um..I think it's best I do it out here. You're kind of loud." Which was true. I only hoped he didn't wake my neighbors. And I ignored the thought of Garrett getting an earful.

"What's that?" He asked into my neck.

I pushed myself away from his chest enough so I could plant my hands on his pecks, and pushed him. He didn't budge, and he only raised his head up away from my neck to look at me with question.

"What are you doing?" He asked, with a smile, as I pushed hard. He gave though, at the same time, and I backed him up into another tree.

I took the initiative because his arms were slack, his hands still inside my shirt on my back. I was a little cold because the cool air was hitting my exposed skin, and the cramps were easy enough to ignore. I stood on the tips of my toes, and I went for his jaw.

"I'm..thanking..you..properly."

It only took a second for his hands to respond, and started to grope the flesh on my back again.

"You already thanked me. But..don't let that stop you."

I nipped at his jaw, and moved down to his neck, to bite him hard. He growled low. I felt it in my nipples. "I'm not thanking you for me. I'm thanking you for Deb."

I pulled his shirt up and stuck my hands underneath. He was cold, and missed the way his body felt underneath my hands. I ran my fingertips over the skin of his abdomen, and he clenched his muscles.

He groaned. "For Deb?"

I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were lidded. Black. "Uh huh. Don't worry. If she didn't do it already, she'll stroke your ego later. I decided I'd stroke something else. She told me to do _good_ job."

I pulled his shirt up, all the way to his pecks, and started to lick and kiss and nip at his chest.

I undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper. I felt him twitch, his cock trying to spring free.

"Ohh.._shit_. Bella, you don't have to..."

"Shh. If you can." I kept my hands on him, as I bent down, licking as I went until I was on my knees.

The ground was wet, and cold. My pants were gonna get soaked.

I pulled his jeans out and down a little bit, and he sprung out at me, at the ready.

"Ohh, yes you do. Yes, you can." He whispered, his tone full of anticipation.

His right hand was gripping my upper arm, His left hung slack at his side. I grabbed his hand and put it in my hair, so he could hold my head. Lead me if he wanted. Though this shit here was like going to the dentist and listening to him tell you to open up wider when you just can't anymore. Or maybe even drinking down a thirty two ounce slushy all at once in five minutes flat. Peter was _cold_.

I did a quick dip, and I ran my tongue over the length of his shaft. His breath whooshed out, in one long and quiet purr. I had to psych myself up for this, it was gonna take a lot of fucking energy and concentration.

I palmed his balls, and squeezed them gently. The man had quite the set. I looked up at him, and though he was hard to see, I knew he was staring down at me, wide eyed with anticipation and surprise and above all, lust. And love.

I wrapped my hand around the base of his shaft, and my lips around the head of his cock, smiling as he tenderly stroked my cheek.

And then he talked.

But I realized just then that maybe I did take the things he said out of context, and maybe _I_, was throwing him for a loop. Either way, I still stopped to give him a look.

"Thank _You_, Deb."


	18. Chapter 17 Phantom Farters & Grave

Chapter 17. Phantom Farters and Grave Robbers

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***B*E*L*L*A***

_**June 12, 2009 - Six weeks later.**_

_**12:05AM**_

"You got it from here?"

"Yeah," I answered, looking up at Vern. The streetlight we were under blinked off, so I could hardly see his face. "I'm good. I'll see you a week from Monday."

"Alright, you have fun, now. Tell your man I said 'Hello'."

Vern was already turning around, walking back towards the club. I had left work a little early. I had a full day planned for tomorrow.

My hours had changed two weeks prior to that day. Vinny and Tony were scaling back because business was starting to drop. Gas prices were at an all-time high, and the economy was severely fucked. Since the change was in my future anyway, I dropped five hours from my schedule and started coming in at seven instead of six. I usually had to park out on Cerrillos now whenever I worked because the back lot would always be full.

I was parked a couple of blocks down from the club, in the space in front of the space I had parked in the night Peter had come to my rescue after I was hassled by a couple of drunks. There was nobody around - neither on this side of the street nor the other.

Vern was letting me walk the last twenty feet alone. He was itching to get his shift done so he could go home to his expecting wife. It was known to the entire rag tag group I worked with who I was involved with, and Vern never forgot a face. Peter had grabbed his attention the very first night we ever met - when he caught me on the dance floor - and it even surprised Vern that my 'boyfriend' was some guy I had met at the club.

Peter's spur of the moment visits eventually led to me introducing him, and to Vern he was just another guy with whom he could talk baseball. But, according to Vern, Peter was also one 'weird-looking, scary-ass motherfucker.' Besides all that, we were using Vern's wife, Beth, to sell my house. A lot had happened in the last six weeks.

"I will. Tell Beth I said hi," I said.

"I'll do that!" he yelled back, slowly jogging back down to the club.

It was hot, and the humidity with the heat was almost unbearable. Heat warnings had sent the city, state, local churches, and veterans' groups out on efforts to set up cooling centers throughout the area. The entire southwest was setting record-breaking temperatures. It had been abnormally sweltering the last few days, and the weather forecast said it would be even hotter over the coming weekend. We were experiencing almost one hundred degree temps, with high humidity.

Even in Tony's fucked up uniform, the sweat was beading up and trickling down the crack of my ass. I was in Tony's fucked up uniform because we had celebrated his forty-fourth birthday. He was still grumbling weeks later about the money he had wasted in buying those outfits, so we wore them to be nice and to put a smile on his face - which it did.

I hit the button for the door on my truck and walked up to open the door.

Had I paid attention, I would have noticed that the park on the other side of the retaining wall was eerily quiet - no crickets singing, no bats swooping down at the streetlight under my truck to catch a moth or a June bug. The only noise was the clicking sound of my wedges along the sidewalk.

I didn't even hear him come up behind me, and I barely saw the reflection of someone through the side window.

A cold hand clasped over my mouth, a cold arm around my waist.

Before I knew it, I was on the other side of the retaining wall. The sinking feeling that usually occurred within my belly wasn't even felt until I was inside the park - face planted into the wall, underneath the palms and in the dark.

I gasped - only because the immediate feeling of fear hadn't fallen away yet. The hand fell away from my mouth to grab my arms, and cold fingers interlaced both my wrists to hold and pin my hands and arms above my head. A strong arm - one I was surely never to break the hold of - hiked up my skirt first before snaring my waist. He put his weight against mine and pressed me firmly against the wall, pinning down any effort I made to struggle.

Not that I even had a chance to - and definitely not that I would.

His body was cool. I could feel his temperature through his clothes, and I wanted to slide against him…everywhere.

It would have been quite the terrorizing situation if I didn't recognize the feel of it - of him - or the way he immediately attracted all my senses.

Cold breath tickled my ear, and an enigmatic, deep voice whispered forcefully.

"Don't scream or I'll kill you."

I laughed.

"Quit fucking laughing! Do you think I'm joking?!" he whispered forcefully, and then growled to emphasize his point while pressing me more firmly against the wall. It was difficult to breathe already without the extra weight.

But he wanted to play.

"Oh, God! Please don't hurt me!" I cried out softly. I even sounded believable.

"Do everything I say and I won't hurt you." He wiggled his arm out from its position around my waist to brush the hair away from my neck so he could lick the length of my jugular, groaning. I imagine he could taste the sweat.

"Who are you? What do you want?!" I said breathlessly.

"Don't play stupid, little girl. You're gonna suck my cock and let me fuck you, you dirty, little whore."

_Wow. _He was really playing the part…

I burst out in laughter. "Mind if I get a drink first? I'm awfully thirsty. And hot."

I could feel Peter laughing quietly. He let go of my wrists to turn me around by my waist and pressed my back against the wall. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

"You're such a mood killer. I've wanted to do this ever since I first saw you wear this goddamn thing," he mumbled disappointingly, nuzzling my nose with his before kissing me softly. It was dark and we were in shadow. I could barely see him.

"Oh, I didn't say I didn't want to play. I'm curious, though - do you sidle up to any whore the way you just did to me? Because if you do, we need to talk about that."

He shrugged. "I only rough up the clean ones - take them home and bed them before I kill em'. You know, give them a good way to go out," he said, smiling against my lips.

"Liar. So what, you came here just to scare me and pillage my body?" I asked.

His hands were on the prowl, rubbing my thighs and ghosting underneath both the back and front of my skirt. His fingertips were tickling the skin along my sides, sending a wonderful chill up my spine and effectively cooling me off and turning me on all at the same time.

His tongue slipped in between my lips just to take a quick taste and to let a purr of hunger roll down my throat before pulling back to speak.

"No, I came here to drive you home, take you to bed, violate you in two or three different ways, and then send your ass packing in the morning. I have to stop by your house, anyways, I left my sketchpad on the back porch." He mumbled the last part against my lips.

He emphasized his first point by reaching down and hoisting me up against the wall, spreading my legs so I could wrap them around him and undulating his hips to let me feel the tool that would no doubt violate me in two or three different ways. He was turning me on another notch.

But the sketchpad was the key - the real reason he decided to come and take me home. To his house - or _our house_, as he liked to call it, and I guess it was going to be 'our house' soon, anyways.

The sketchpad contained designs and ideas for a new house, with a location yet to be determined. It would be a slow project - one that had no predetermined date of completion and one that shared both our ideas, but with his ability to draw them out. It would be a house that was truly 'ours', and where I would no doubt spend my first few years when I was no longer a human.

Peter was looking into land to purchase - somewhere away from the city, or _a_ city. We both wanted to stay in or near New Mexico. It was home. But he also wanted a lake or riverfront property, so he was looking up north by the border of Colorado and to the northeast. Maybe even Arizona. Texas was a big NO - evidently it was some type of 'vampire corridor' from Mexico to the States, where rogue and nomadic vampires traveled. Peter was looking for isolation, but also for something with easy access to hunting grounds, as he liked to call it.

We didn't discuss that aspect very much. There really wasn't a reason to. But I found out that Peter missed the old life. He missed free ranging - roaming through the country or through the wilderness. There was some need for solitude governing over the man after all. I was expecting to live in Colorado in my future.

At this moment, however, Peter had every intention of making sure he got his fill this morning, and at noon today I'd be leaving 'our house' to head to the airport to pick up Seth, who would be flying in from Forks for a week long vacation. He wouldn't be heading home until next Thursday morning.

"Hmm... The sketchpad. God forbid you have to go without _that_." It was true. His nose was constantly in it when he wasn't working on things for the company - always on our downtime, or always sitting on an end table by the couch in the living room when he sat there - or on a night stand when I was sleeping.

I could understand, though, why it was so important to him. It was a big part of our future together. Plus, it was fun dreaming up what we both wanted in a home. A ranch-style house - much like the one he had now - but with a separate library for me and a work area for him, where I didn't need to see the utter clusterfuck it would become.

His lips traveled over my neck at leisure, smiling against my skin. "Hey, don't knock the sketchpad. It's the only thing that's gonna keep me from busting down your door this week and making Seth jump out of his fucking skin. We can't have that."

I could almost feel every inch of his thick length through the mediocre, thin barrier of the bloomers attached to my skirt wanting to break through and seek me out right where I needed him now - inside me, filling me up, feeling his body on mine.

At either rate, his hands were squeezing my breasts, pushing them in and up, and making it seem like they were always meant to be for his hands and his hands alone. Along with what his lips and his cold breath were doing to my neck, it was enough to drive me insane. My insides ached, and the wetness between my legs wasn't just sweat anymore.

It was going to be a very long week, and yesterday morning was already a lifetime ago.

"You're right - we can't… Rip the skirt."

That wall and that park probably saw more action than any of the surrounding motels that rented by the hour, and I couldn't find it in me to care. The groan that left his chest told me he didn't care either. His hands immediately went down to cup my ass, and he worked his fingers under the thin fabric of the attached panty to massage my slick opening before he ripped out the crotch.

He was going take what he needed tonight, and so was I.

I would wish later that I would have taken more and given it more justice - that I had paid better attention to the cold hands and body over and under mine; to the licks that had tasted my skin and could chill me and warm me at the same time; to the way his lust-filled eyes would stare at the vein in my neck or the way they would watch me come undone with just a flick of his finger or tongue; to the way he just looked at me when we cuddled, ever submissive or ever dominating whenever I wanted to be in control or when he was a man to be reckoned with.

I would wish that I hadn't treated it so casually - not that any time I had made love to or just fucked Peter could ever be considered casual. He was overwhelming in both body and mind.

It would be the last time I'd ever hear that lulling connection to him ever again.

Some sort of calm complacency had worked itself into our relationship during the past few weeks. The love I had discovered for Peter those first few days being with him had only grown, and the issues I had with trusting him seemed to fade away with each passing day, week by week, until even I could pass off the things that he had said as a form of nervousness or him just being emotionally overwhelmed and dealing with change himself.

We had taken it day by day, and we had learned so much more about the other. It had had a wonderful effect on our way of communicating, but it wasn't always easy for either of us.

Talking about Charlotte always seemed to rile something up in Peter, whether it was grieving when remembering how she died, or even being angry that she did. There was definitely some hostility he was harboring - for what, I didn't know - but it was almost as if he was angry at her because of the way she impacted his life now.

He had said that even _he_ thought he was too overbearing and overwhelming me with too much because if he could lose her so easily, then he could lose me _just_ as easily in the human world - where you didn't know if some asshole with a gun would invade your space at the local pump to steal your gas, which was running almost $4.00 a gallon, or falling ill under the gun which was now the Swine Flu Epidemic.

It scared him, and there were plenty of times where I had caught him hanging out in the trees or waiting by my truck on my way out from work.

I could never be angry with him for caring so much. It just strengthened the fact that he loved me more than anything. He was the best kind of stalker there was - the type who would actually go away when you told him to - which I never did - and the type who would wheel your garbage can in after the dump truck had picked up the garbage on a windy day.

I tried and succeeded at getting him to remember and tell me about the bright parts of his life with Charlotte - about their travels and her own idiosyncrasies. It got easier and easier for him, but at the same time it still brought back that memory of watching her die on a ridge in southern Texas. The details were gut-wrenching to hear. I could not imagine having to bear seeing it with my own two eyes, let alone his, which kept it in constant memory.

We took it day by day, but we were also moving forward. After much talk and extreme consideration, I had agreed to move in with Peter and put my house up on the market after Seth's visit. The country, however, was pretty much in a recession - housing markets were tumbling with the finance rate at an all time low. Still, nobody was buying. Nobody could afford to.

Peter and Garrett had pretty much remodeled the entire house - from putting in an entirely new hardwood floor, to reinforcing the walls on the exterior, to updating all the plumbing, and rewiring the house - just so I could sell it at a steal of a price and hopefully make a little profit that would pay off my school loans.

At least, that was the original idea. I received a 'Paid in Full' notice last week from the bank that would 'own my ass for the next five years' if I had it all done 'my way'.

Evidently, it was just bullshit we didn't need to deal with - or Peter didn't need to deal with - since I was going to be taking a step that would no doubt in the long run seal my fate and my future. I would be more concerned with wanting to slaughter the nice-smelling deputy who would serve me court papers for a loan Peter and I were failing to pay because Peter would be too busy chasing my ass around, and I wouldn't give a shit about paying off a loan for a girl who used to be human, according to Peter.

I tried not to think of that aspect of it too much - the actual deed to join the everlasting. I had had a taste of what it was like already, and there was no way to prepare for that. In the end, it would be worth it. But getting there and past those first few months were something better left to Peter to handle. I trusted his insight on that.

There was no set date or time for anything. I didn't even know how I was going to tell Charlie, or if I even would. I hadn't even told Charlie about Peter yet, but I was soon going to have to rectify that, especially with Seth's visit just hours away from occurring.

Charlie was my father, but I was trading my life, my humanity, and everything that came with it for Peter. I was quitting school, and soon I'd be cutting back on my hours at the club under the preconceived notion that I would be attending school full time while living with my boyfriend until I was ready to just go ahead and quit. And this was all going to be news to both Charlie and Seth.

It was my idea to tell Charlie the truth - all of it - before I...died. It was a take it or leave it scenario. I wanted my father to meet the man I would spend eternity with, just so he would know that when I did see him again, I had done it for myself and for love. He would need to know that there was only one choice for me, and that we both had something else in common - we could love fiercely. And Charlie _did_ love fiercely in his own way.

It would make him hate me, or he would accept it and still love me. But Charlie deserved to know the truth and not be fed a lie that his daughter had lost her life unexpectedly and would never see him again. It would be his choice.

I only hoped he would choose _me_, no matter what I was. And I only hoped my news wouldn't send him to an early grave.

There was only one option where Seth was concerned, and a lot of it had to do with Charlie himself. Seth could not meet Peter. Seth was a werewolf - a natural enemy to the vampire - and Peter was no Cullen. Peter killed people - he took what he needed from humanity - and it would never work.

No 'treaty' could be constructed or adhered to, especially since I would become an enemy. It would put Seth in a bad position, and to ask him for any kind of acceptance - even if it was just knowledge of his stepsister's doings - would be wrong. I didn't need anyone's approval, except for Charlie's. And I certainly didn't need any bullshit from Seth and the pack…or Jake, for that matter. They would inevitably hear about it the first chance Seth got to shift.

Seth would not meet Peter. It was both an easy choice and a not-so-easy choice.

I wanted it all. I wanted to show him off and tell everyone how much I loved him, and I didn't want to have to lie. But lie was what I was going to do by not telling him the truth. I also couldn't ask Seth to accept it because if there was anyone who could hate vampires more, it would be him and his sister. Vampires had sparked the gene in his blood to come alive, and it had caused him and Leah to shift in front of their father, which had ended up taking Harry's life. If there was anyone who could hate vampires more, it would be him.

He had every reason to hate them, and I couldn't ask him or tell him to accept what the truth of the matter was. I was in love with a vampire, and one day I would become one.

Peter was convinced that if a vampire couldn't smell him, then neither could a werewolf. If he couldn't be smelled, then he was safe to roam around Santa Fe - and safe in general, just as long as he didn't catch Seth's eye. It was ultimately my choice to tell or not tell Seth about Peter. The only precautionary measure we took was with Garrett and Deb, which was a problem at first.

Seth would be able to smell Garrett, and the problem it could create could be a dire one. I was informed by both Peter and Garrett that they would take all the steps necessary to prevent Garrett's discovery, even moving Garrett down to Albuquerque for the week before and during Seth's visit. But if one of them was discovered and Seth went after them, they wouldn't hesitate to defend themselves.

I was sure, however, that he'd at least pick up a trace of scent. Debbie's house was only two blocks away, and although Garrett hadn't been in mine for almost a month, he had certainly been in hers. It hadn't rained for nearly two weeks, and we could only rely on the wind to blow the scent away.

It just wasn't fair for anyone involved. I hated putting anyone in the position of asking that they change their routine just for the sake of keeping Seth ignorant to what was really going on around me and with me. While I felt this way, neither Peter nor Deb nor Garrett had a problem with it. Their relationship was sort of at an impasse anyway.

The only thing Garrett was concerned about was that Debbie would be near and exposed to a werewolf. That made him uneasy, a little angry, and fearful for Debbie when he first heard she'd be spending some time with both Seth and I. The next day, however, after a conversation with Peter, he was more relaxed and more open to the idea. When I asked Peter about it, his reasoning was that if Seth didn't have anything to fear, then there would be no danger to Debbie or me. Peter told Garrett that if he wasn't afraid to leave me alone with Seth, then he shouldn't be afraid to leave Debbie alone either.

It was easier all around to just avoid it, but if it couldn't be avoided, then I would tell Seth the truth and deal with the consequences—if there were any—at that time. The ball, so-to-speak, was in my court. The possibility was there that I might just tell Seth the truth, but only time with him would tell.

I was sort of dreading and looking forward to his visit all at the same time. I was scared because I didn't want anyone to get hurt, emotionally or physically. Seth had grown, matured, and I didn't know what to expect. He and Leah were the closest things to siblings I had ever had, and although I could appreciate that and what little actual relationship we now had as a family, I could also live without it.

But not Charlie. It would hurt for eternity if he no longer considered me his daughter, and I was so worried and scared. It affected Peter also. It was almost as if he wanted me to keep my father just as badly as I did. Disappearing or 'dying' was not an option with him, and I knew I'd hold his hand like my life depended on it when it came time to buy Charlie a ticket to fly him down.

All of it made me question the need I had to go through with this visit. Seth was a good kid, and he had a good heart, but I also knew he looked up to Jake for guidance. Surely, after almost three years he was sure to have been impacted by Jake's line of thinking in some way, along with his own.

Peter thought it would be good for me, and maybe it would. If I was happy and living the life I wanted to live, then Seth would see it, and so would Jake, eventually. Maybe it would get him to back off from trying to repair something that just couldn't be repaired.

It pissed Peter off the week I received a letter from Jake, who by then had knowledge of Seth's upcoming visit. Peter's thinking was that he'd fly up to Washington to 'neuter that son of a bitch'. The letter was a little nasty, given the fact that I had invited Seth and not him. Even I had to admit that Jake had some serious balls. I had to convince Peter that responding in any way would just egg Jake to continue on with his relentless pursuit for a friendship that was dead.

But Peter also thought that Seth's visit would be good for me for other reasons. It would get me out of the house and let me have some fun. I was twenty-one, and I was 'as anti-social as a fifty-five year old disgruntled divorcée'. Maybe I would 'embrace my youth a little bit', and that would help 'dislodge the stick I had up my ass'. Evidently, I was a bore.

I informed Peter that the only stick I'd ever had up my ass was his and that he should shut his fucking mouth if he ever hoped to stick it up there again. Debbie almost peed herself on the way to the bathroom. We were up at his place, and the boys had cooked us dinner.

Debbie and Garrett's relationship - I guess you could call it that - was a tricky one. They had become fast friends after their initial meeting. And while Garrett wanted to pursue her romantically, he didn't want to overwhelm her so soon after what he thought was a bad break up with someone she had cared deeply about.

Debbie's thinking was that she didn't want Garrett to think she was needy and had to be attached to somebody. Neither one of them had been in a hurry to rush into anything, so it stayed platonic while they got to know each other. Feelings grew, which were kind of there from the start.

Now they were just afraid to tell each other how they felt because they were both being stubborn. And it didn't help that Garrett called her his 'friend' when the issue of Debbie being safe during Seth's visit came up. But before Garrett took off to stay down in Albuquerque, something sort of wonderful happened - Garrett planted one on her.

According to Debbie, it wasn't just any kiss either. It was the kiss of all kisses, and it had even included some unexpected boob groping.

Garrett had been trying to step things up because his feelings for her had grown exponentially. But the night before he left for Albuquerque, he took her on her first 'run'. He told her ghost stories inside the Carlsbad Caverns, and he cited poetry to her under the stars in the middle of White Sands. That's when 'the kiss' happened.

One would think they would have gone ahead and admitted their true feelings to each other, but the opposite occurred. He had promptly taken her home, shocked by his own actions, and not much was said other than goodnight. They haven't talked about it since because they haven't spoken again since then. Debbie thought he was rejecting her.

But he was everything she wanted and more, and Peter said it was likewise on Garrett's end.

It was obvious they both loved each other, but neither one had said the words to each other yet. Debbie positively glowed whenever she talked about him. And Garrett, having lived an adventurous life and having never taken a mate, convinced Debbie that perhaps he never would. She said she thought he preferred to live in solitude, and it made her afraid to say those three words to him because she didn't want to scare him away.

According to Peter, who had been adamant that we stay out of it, Garrett loved Debbie. They could communicate about everything and anything, but to tell each other the way they really felt would be a fucking sin.

"Well, I can't take it anymore. She's been moping around all week. He needs to tell her."

I was getting ready in the bathroom when I brought the subject up. It was ten minutes after eleven in the morning, and Seth would be arriving at Santa Fe Municipal Airport at twelve fifteen.

Peter was lying on his stomach across the bed, with his nose and his pencil in his sketchbook, drafting dimensions and a design for yet another master bedroom. We had been in the shower when an idea had sprung to mind and he had raced out, toweling off as he went. He hadn't even bothered to get dressed.

Not that I minded. He was quite the sight sprawled out on the bed, trying to concentrate. Not that I was looking at his face. His white ass and long, strong legs garnered the most of my attention. He was a gift from the gods.

I was curling the top of my hair, but I heard him scoff.

"Bella, stay out of it," he sang out.

"I am staying out of it. I'm just saying he needs to tell her," I sang back to him.

"Well, why does he need to tell her? She could just as well tell him herself." He mumbled the last part.

"Because he's the one who asked her to go out on a date and then proceeded to plant one on her. He hasn't called her all week, Peter. Debbie doesn't think he wants her," I yelled at him.

"If he didn't want her, why would he kiss her?" he yelled back.

"That's what I told her," I sang out.

He flitted into the bathroom as I was brushing out a section to curl on the back of my head.

He took the curling iron off the counter and stood behind me with a small grin on his face. "Well, answer me this - has she given any thought as to what it would mean if he did? I mean, if they're gonna do this, Garrett's not gonna do this half-assed." He took the section of hair I had been holding out of my hand and took over. "He already loves her. He already can't live without her. He's looking for that commitment, Bella."

I knew what he was talking about but I asked anyway. "What, forever?"

"Yeah, forever," he said quietly. He released the iron and put it down to grab the brush out of my hand to brush out another section.

"I think she would. We really haven't talked about it."

"Well, you should since you're so hell bent about getting involved. He's your friend, too, you know. Garrett wants her, but he's giving her an easy out. His thinking is that she's already thought about it, and she really should have. Hell, _you_ should have. She really hasn't been very forthcoming with how she feels, either, you know. You know how deeply we love. It'll hurt him bad if he's gotta walk away now," Peter said quietly.

"I did think about it. But I've been trying to not get involved."

Peter huffed out a laugh. "Well, it's too late. We already are. But if anyone can lay it down for her, it's you. We're not just talking about the change here, you know, if that's what's got her so bundled up. We're talking about love, and I'm sure Garrett wants it all. You need to take him into consideration when you talk to her."

He was right. Garrett was just as much a part of my life as Debbie was. Both of them were our best friends.

"I will. I'll talk to her about it later. You'd think, though, that they could have figured it out for themselves. All this 'he said, she said' bullshit is driving me fucking batty. It's like they're teenagers or something. Young love…" I said wistfully.

Peter chuckled under his breath. "I know. I'll talk to Garrett. He finally gets her where he wants her and he runs away like a pansy ass." Peter ran his fingers through the back of my hair, pulling out the curls.

"He just doesn't want to get his heart broken," I told him.

I looked at him through the mirror. He was thoughtful and frowning a little. It was obvious he wasn't thoughtful because of Debbie and Garrett.

After a moment, he refocused and said, "You look good. Make sure you remind Seth you're technically related." He smiled teasingly, looking down at me. I could look in the mirror and see forever with him.

"I'm not going to have to worry about you sitting outside the house, am I?" I asked. We had already talked about this. Peter wasn't going to - or wasn't supposed to - come anywhere near the house while Seth was here. If there was a chance I could come and see him after the weekend, I would.

He shook his head and gave me a devious look in the mirror while grabbing another section of hair and rolling it in the iron. "No. I'm gonna leave after you and go down to Albuquerque for the weekend. Garrett and I might as well be miserable together. We'll probably head out to Phoenix tonight, anyway, to hunt - as long as Seth doesn't go ballistic."

The plan was for me to take Highway Forty-one down on our way to Las Cruces and bypass Albuquerque tomorrow. It would be a more scenic drive anyway, and away from the city. He let the iron go and brushed out the curl, moving the hair away from my neck.

"Behave yourselves," I told him as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me back against him. I leaned into him, watching him in the mirror. He chuckled silently while leaning down to press his face into my neck.

"We always do. Maybe I'll take him to a titty bar and get him worked up," he mumbled into my skin, kissing me lightly.

I scoffed at him, nudging him away. "That's smart. Give him another reason to miss Deb. Come on, I have to give you your present before I go."

I walked out, grabbing his hand as I went and pulled him along.

"Oh, God! I finally get my present?!" he said, with fake and condescending enthusiasm.

"Yes. I finally got the last piece yesterday." I pulled the paper towel holder out of my bag on the floor, where the chest used to sit. It was strange, but ever since Peter had decided to get rid of it, the room just felt emptier - like it was something that always belonged there, and then it was gone. I never did like the carving on it, but it was all Peter - like an extension of him almost.

"But you better sit down. I'm not sure how you're gonna take this."

I saw the curious and slightly worried smile on his face out of the corner of my eye as we walked over to the bed. I knew he was slightly worried because he knew that his gift was something serious. The reason he knew that was because I had to elicit Garrett's help in order to get it, and it had taken Garrett out of town for a three-day period three weeks ago.

Garrett only told him he was doing something for me and that I was paying him well to keep his mouth shut. I didn't pay Garrett anything though. When I told him everything I had found out and what I was planning, he was more than willing to help.

And it drove Peter fucking nuts.

He let go of my hand to pick up the sketchpad and toss it on my pillow while he sat down and up against the headboard. He grabbed my waist to help pull me up to straddle his lap.

He reached for the old cardboard paper towel roll on which I had painstakingly drawn little red and blue flowers with wavy lines and bows with crayon. I held it behind me, away from him, and gave him a cautionary smile. "Just...wait. You've got to be careful with it. What's inside is all paper, so try not to crease it."

His eyes widened playfully. "What, Garrett helped you with a do-it-yourself prenup? You'll barter your soul for my dick and seventy percent of what I'm worth?"

"Eighty percent, asshole, and you can keep your dick. Leaving you would reduce me to becoming a cat lady, living on top of a big hill in a big old house. I gotta feed them you know."

He looked at me for a moment while he grinned, but there was some irritation and wariness behind it. "That's _if_ you don't eat the cats." He paused. "Why do you have this look on your face that tells me you've done something really…bad?"

Because some would say that I did do something bad…and Peter might not appreciate it. At all.

It all started with what Marcy had said what seemed a lifetime ago. He had told her that she reminded him of his sister, Pauline. The first conversation we ever had about his family pretty much told me that Pauline's death had affected him the most. Sure, he had loved all of his human family, but Pauline had been his favorite because she had cared for him and protected him from his other siblings. She had watched out for him when they were alone, and they were the only thing each other had after his parents and brothers were killed. Watching her die had scarred that boy, and I was going to remind him of her death again - something Peter was never able to forget.

It was my understanding that my 'old world' would seem gray, and I'd forget the small things - the things that didn't matter the most - once I made the transition. But the things we could never forget would always be there. I could look at my life now, and everything I'd been through, and wish that I wouldn't forget a moment.

What started as a simple idea for a grave marker, however, turned into something much more grand and bittersweet. At least _I_ thought it was grand. I suppose, in a way, it would put some old ghosts to rest peacefully where they rightfully belonged. And maybe, in retrospect, it would give Peter some sort of closure to a part of his life that he just wasn't able to ever forget about.

Peter was an open man, able to express his feelings and thoughts, but he kept the things that bothered him the most to himself…to a point. One of those things was Charlotte. The other was his sister. Either of them brought on emotion easily, and sometimes conversations ended abruptly - and that was usually when we just distracted ourselves with the other.

"Because you might not like what I've already gone ahead and done. Just, um…know, though, that I did it not just for you. I think she would have wanted this too," I told him quietly.

I handed him the paper towel holder, watching the playfulness fall away from his face only to be replaced with seriousness and worry.

He looked down the center of the tube, and then tore a corner open so he could reach for the docs and the photos inside to slide them out. Everything would need to be pressed down between books later.

Through research and phone calls, I had found out that Peter's parents and his brothers had been buried on the family's land all those years ago. Pauline, however, had died by fire, so her remains were _supposed_ to be unrecoverable. After the Cloquet fire, anyone dead and recoverable had been piled up in ditches and burnt as a way to prevent disease and the spread of the Spanish Influenza. Through research on the internet, and contacting the historian department through Rooks County, Kansas, I had been able to locate his family's grave site, which was now on private land and owned by one Peter Whitlock.

He had a question to answer, but it made things that much easier because there was a new addition to a historical marker, and Peter would need to take care of some things on his end if the Codell Historical Society ever got wind.

But it wasn't just a marker anymore either. Through researching the Cloquet fire, and reading through individual accounts that were gathered through the years for memorials, I had found the key that would inevitably bring Pauline home to the rest of her family and make them complete.

The reason I had done all this was simply because weeks ago, through time and acceptance, I couldn't really brush off the idea that my mother's words to me in Marcy's house that day were just a figment of my imagination. A part of me _did_ believe it was real and that it did happen. And just maybe, if she was still out there, then so was Pauline. And just maybe, she'd like what was left of her to be buried with the rest of her family instead of in the woods by an old railroad track that wasn't used anymore. It was a thought, and I only hoped I had done the right thing.

Peter never asked why I had suddenly taken an interest in nonfiction - in a couple of books about miracles and the afterlife. He even held me silently and brushed away my tears for two damn nights when I had insisted on watching City of Angels. He never asked why, and I appreciated him more for it.

I was still looking for the truth, and I was planning on telling him what happened with Marcy - and in that room - but something inside me, whether it was my subconscious or maybe something more, told me to wait.

The first paper on the top was a copy of Pauline's death certificate, filled out by a representative from the Saint James Catholic Orphanage and Peter Fischer himself. He had been too young to sign by himself, and the recounting of her death was even vague then.

I watched his eyebrows furrow and knew that he knew what it was immediately. "What is this?" he said, his tone low. He frowned.

I took a deep breath. I was nervous as hell.

"It's Pauline's death certificate. I thought I needed it. I thought it would help when I contacted the Codell Historical Society about putting a gravestone in at your family's site. The second one is her birth certificate. You might need that also, since the site has now been altered. To tell you the truth, you probably won't need them at all, but since I asked, they might check it out."

Peter was studying her death certificate, and then he flipped the page down on the bed to find her birth certificate. The next thing was the photo that had been taken by the restorer I had hired. It was a 'before' picture, and I pulled it out so he could look at it.

The family was buried underneath an old oak tree that stood next to the house that used to be there. I had hired a gravestone restorer because time and weather had worn off the names, the dates of their births, and the dates of their death. They were small gravestones, simplistic in detail and appearance, and they no longer stood straight in the ground. In the photo, you could tell who was buried where - after Bill, the restorer, had pushed down the grass and weeds. Peter's parents were beside each other, and the two boys were in the back. Patrick's stone had to be completely replaced - half of it was broken off and the rest was crumbling to dust.

Peter noticed that right away. His face was already one of shock. I kept my hands on the photo so he couldn't turn it to see the next. "What...what happened to Patrick's stone? What did you do?"

"Answer me this first - when was the last time you were there?" I asked.

Peter looked at me. "Fifteen years ago, when I bought the land. Cessna was trying to come in and buy up property so they could build a new facility to make planes. I bought back all but two acres of my family's homestead. It's a historical marker, but Cessna would have just built around it."

That explained why the upkeep was so poor, but I couldn't understand it.

"You didn't do anything with the land. It's all open property. And if Patrick's stone wasn't broken when you last saw it, it means it happened at some point in the last fifteen years. Why buy it if you weren't going to do anything with it?" I asked him gently. He was a little edgy.

Peter groaned under his breath and closed his eyes for a second. "I was going to," he shrugged, "just keep it as a family plot and clean it up a little myself. But I got sidetracked...I guess," he added quietly, shaking his head. He said nothing else. His eyes were on the photo, and he looked sadly deep in thought.

I took my hand away from holding the photo in place. "I hired a gravestone restorer. This is the picture he took before he made any alterations. The yard around the tree has been mowed, and it will be for the rest of the year by a local landscaper. The stones have all been restored, and Patrick's was replaced. Go to the next picture."

He looked at me with surprise before he finally put the picture down to look at the next. This was what I was worried about the most.

The family plot was now surrounded by a small, white picket fence. There was now a three foot antique statue of Saint Michael the Arch standing behind the graves, and Pauline Ann Fischer was now surrounded by her family, in the middle - not just in thought, but in body as well.

Peter studied each part of the photo, looking shocked and swallowing back emotion. The restorer had used old stones that had never been chiseled, and they were similar to the stones used for the rest of the family. He had reset them and reinforced them in the ground on rebar, and they were now coated in material that wouldn't wear down as fast with nature and time. Yet the stones kept the markings of age and antiquity. It was only appropriate.

And the angel…the angel was Saint Michael the Arch, carrier of the souls of the dead to Heaven. It had felt like the right thing to do - to represent the lives of his family and the humanity that Peter had lost. Now he was immortal, and he could watch over those who had influenced him the most if he chose to do so.

It would be really remarkable to watch him look at the plot with his own two eyes, and he had been trying to get me to take a flight with him for weeks. But right then I couldn't tell what he was thinking or what he was feeling. There were so many emotions crossing his face that it was difficult to figure out if he was angry or happy. Maybe he was just overwhelmed. He was staring directly at the new marker. Pauline's grave.

He shook his head in bewilderment. "You had a stone made for Pauline."

It wasn't a question. It was obvious what I had done. I didn't answer him.

He looked up at me, and I'm sure I was giving him a wary look.

"Bella?" he said.

I grabbed the photo and took it out of his hand, placing it on top of the other one on the bed so he could look at the two sheets of paper underneath. I looked back up into his eyes.

"Yes. But it's not..._just_ a stone."

"What do you mean it's not just a stone?" he asked seriously.

I took a deep breath and sighed. "I had her brought home. Garrett went up to Cloquet and he recovered her remains. He brought her home and she's buried there. You didn't notice the bare spot, did you? See the grass coming in? Garrett buried her there. He found..." I was pointing at the grass in the picture when Peter interrupted.

"That's impossible. She burned to death." He sighed out and the corner of his lip cocked up.

"You're right. She did die. But you're wrong, too. Only the explosion killed her. This here is a recollection written by Wayne Rasmussen, a Cloquet resident his entire life. He used to work at the coal livery, which blew up alongside the railroad tracks. He witnessed the explosion and he saw those people fall off. Twelve people died, plus one of the workers who was helping to put out the flames. All of them were adults, except there was one little girl who looked like she was about thirteen or fourteen. All of them were people he knew, but he didn't know this little girl," I told him quietly.

Peter's face fell even more. It was all coming together for him now.

I kept talking and pointed to the paragraph that held the key to her original location. "Her initials were inside her coat. PAF - Pauline Anne Fischer. You were in an orphanage, so you had to label your clothing, right? Rasmussen and a few others were there, trying to put out the flames before the coal dump exploded. They doused the bodies, and then they checked to see if anyone was still alive. They buried most of the dead in shallow graves, marked those graves with wooden crosses, and carved their initials into them. Wayne Rasmussen wrapped Pauline up in burlap and buried her - one little girl he didn't know, one little girl he thought was alone in the world. He buried her beside the tracks. Only one of those people buried had the initials of PAF. The body count between Cloquet and Moose Lake was so significant that they didn't detail it all out. They just didn't worry about it back then."

Peter let out a huge whoosh of air. I kept talking.

"I told Garrett. He went up to see if he could locate her grave. He found her, Peter. He dug up her body and carried her home to Kansas. Garrett buried her with the rest of your family."

There was nothing but shock written all over his face. It was in his eyes as he stared at me.

"She's home. She's with her family. _Your_ family. It felt like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if it wasn't."

He looked back down at Rasmussen's recounting. He wasn't reading it, though - I could almost see the entire memory playing out before his eyes.

"She's home," he whispered, nodding minutely to himself.

"She's home. She's not alone anymore. Garrett even stole a casket so he could bury her properly," I told him.

I really didn't know how he felt about grave robbing - if he felt it was sacrilegious in some way. I sure as hell wasn't going to tell him that Garrett more or less found just a burlap sack, full of bones and rotting clothing. I'm sure Peter would figure that out for himself.

Peter nodded and swallowed thickly. He was rapidly blinking away the venom in his eyes. He shook his head in disbelief again. "Jesus," he said, swallowing thickly again.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. "I can understand if I've made you angry, but don't be angry with Garrett. He only did what I asked him to do."

That wasn't necessarily true. As soon as Garrett found her body, he alone made the decision to take her out of one grave and move her to another. It was what I wanted myself, and Garrett knew that. We had become good friends.

"_You don't notice it like I do. Peter looks at you like you're the very air he needs to breathe. And we do need to breathe. He looks at you like he used to look at Charlotte. Everything he does, he does for you now. Don't ever question his devotion or his love, no matter what he's done. Or does, I mean."_

But I didn't want Peter to blame him for something I was essentially responsible for.

Peter's eyes snapped up to mine, and he just stared at me while he put Rasmussen's recounting down on the pictures and Pauline's certificates. He grabbed them all together and tossed them on top of the sketchbook.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and lifted me up to lay me on my back while staying between my legs. His arm moved up to support the back of my neck, and he settled on top of me, sighing deeply. He palmed my cheek with his free hand and caressed the shadow under my eye with his thumb. His head came down, and he kissed the tip of my nose before finally kissing my lips softly.

He pulled back and shook his head minutely. "I'm not mad. This is the best thing you could have ever given me," he said quietly. "Thank you," he mouthed.

"You're welcome," I mouthed back.

He was quiet for a moment. "This cost a lot more than a goddamn shirt," he said a little heatedly, nodding. I knew he wasn't mad - he was just overwhelmed and thrown off guard.

He was idiotic enough to still believe that I was purchasing him something simple out of my Kentucky Derby win. Even the win didn't cover a quarter of the cost, but money wasn't everything. In the end it was worth it, just like the time I put into it was. I did it because I loved him. But I could never do the same for Charlotte.

"Yeah, it did. But you know what? It was worth it."

He shook his head in disbelief again. "I can't believe you did this."

"I would have thought you would have done it for yourself, if not for Pauline." I took two of my fingers and pushed the corners of his lips up.

"I thought she was gone," he whispered. He looked like he was internally kicking himself. Painfully.

"You just didn't remember it all, that's all. Plus, most of the people killed were burned, anyways. It's as it should be now. And if you want, I'll go with you to see it for yourself. You can put flowers on her grave. On all of them. You can say goodbye," I choked. The emotion in his eyes was too much. He probably had already said it, but now he could say it to her. To all of them.

He just nodded and kissed me quickly again. His hair was tickling my cheeks, so I ran my hands through it to pull it back.

He stared at me for a moment, not saying anything. My neck was resting on his left arm, and his right hand was rubbing my left thigh. His eyes darkened somewhat.

The look on his face was a look I had seen before - a few times, actually, in the last few weeks. It was almost as if he was holding something back. And whenever I asked him about it, the answer was always the same.

"What are you thinking about?"

He just shook his head. "Nothing." Another shake. "Nothing at all."

That was usually when he kissed me, which he did. One quick kiss, then another, and then he let his lips linger. His tongue sought entrance, and he breathed heavily into my mouth as his tongue slid against mine. These kisses - the distractions from the issue - were the only things that gave me pause. They were the only things that made me question if I was doing the right thing. But I could never think that way for long. The love behind those kisses - the love Peter had for me - always negated any thinking that he was still holding something back.

At that moment, mischievousness worked itself into the equation. The hand on my thigh only traveled higher, and his fingers dipped under the denim of my shorts, working their way to my center, where he played with the elastic on my panty-clad pussy with his fingertips. He was smiling into my mouth, and I turned my head to break the kiss.

"Stop. I can't. I don't have time."

His hand moved, traveling up my hip to my stomach while he groaned, but he continued to lick and kiss my chin and jaw line. "Yeah, you do. I'll bet you ten bucks the plane is late." His hand moved up to grab and squeeze my breast lightly.

"It won't be late. Besides, I still have to make it through the metal detector. The line will be long."

Peter sighed in defeat, but he was always a sexual force to be reckoned with. He was setting me on fire. If we didn't stop now, Seth would be stuck at the airport waiting for me. It was a good twenty-five minute drive to the airport, and then I'd have to find a parking spot, make it through security, and then walk to his gate. We didn't have time.

His head was resting against me. He was breathing in deeply the scent at my neck, his lips lingering. "So, you'll go with me to Kansas?"

I was rubbing his back and playing with his hair. "Yeah, if you wait until next week to go. But if you want go up by yourself, you can do that too."

"No, I'll wait. I'll have some new plans for Oklahoma City anyways, and we'll have to drop them off. Or you might have to, if it's sunny out," he said with a hint of sadness in his voice. He crawled off of me.

We were both thinking the same thing - that much was obvious. We would be spending a week away from each other - the longest yet without seeing each other. There was no way in hell I could stay away from him that long, though. Seth was going to have to cut me some slack - at least overnight some night.

"I can do that." I watched Peter walk over to his dresser to dig out a pair of blue jeans and a black, short sleeve T-shirt. He quickly dressed while I stood up and ran my fingers through my hair and slipped on a pair of black thongs.

Peter went out to the kitchen and poured me another cup of coffee to-go in a lidded car cup. He still had to do the dishes and a load of wash before he could head down to Albuquerque, plus he was hanging around for any frantic phone calls in case Seth noticed Dracula was living the life in Santa Fe. I grabbed my purse off the counter, along with my keys, and we walked out to the truck.

Peter had cleared the other space in the garage so I could park in it now. He opened up my truck door and slipped my cup into the holder before taking my purse from me and throwing it on the console. It was almost 11:40AM.

I climbed up into my seat.

"Alright, well…I love you. Call me if anything happens. Have fun and be careful," he said. He was already leaning in, grabbing the side of my head to turn it so he could kiss me.

"I will. You be careful, too. Stay out of the titty bars. Go find yourself some nice AB positive and have a drink."

He snorted and deepened the kiss momentarily, breathing against my mouth. His hand went down to wrap itself around the crook of my knee, like he almost wanted to pull me out.

But he pulled away from the kiss, taking one last taste, and rested his head against mine.

"I'll miss you," he whispered.

"I'll miss you, too. I love you."

He nodded and pulled back to hit the receiver button on the garage door remote on my visor. I started the truck.

"Have fun, Bunny. Stay safe." He stepped back and shut my door. I could tell he was a little worried, but he smiled at me through the glass. I put the truck in reverse and started to back out after the door was up all the way.

"Bye," I said out loud, knowing he could hear me, and he put his hand up to wave once.

We looked at each other as I backed out of the driveway. Goodbyes were always hard.

I would wish later that I had said to hell with it and made love to him just one last time. But even at that moment, that goodbye was far from being insignificant to any other. When he was first out of sight was always when I missed him the most.

Those last few weeks with Peter had been anything but boring. We hadn't done much, and most of the time I had just been comfortable staying at his place or working on mine with him. But at least once a week, he had taken me somewhere. He had taken me to an orchard, where he gathered fresh apples to make a pie, and we had spent the entire day there, lying underneath an apple tree, talking, or helping some second graders on a field trip find the biggest apple. We had even gone back to Cliff's, where Peter raped and pillaged the quarter toss only to give every small child who walked by one of his winnings. He had taken me on a run to see the crater in Arizona, where we sat on an edge to watch a meteor shower.

We had watched Deadliest Catch together, and both of us wanted Phil to kick Keith's ass when he laid his crab pots on top of the Cornelia Marie's. Both of us were heartbroken for Jake from the Northwestern when his sister died.

My favorite nights were the ones we spent on the pinnacle by Sandia Peak, where I would roast hot dogs and marshmallows on a stick, and he'd read to me while we curled up by the fire. We would make love on sleeping bags beneath the stars.

It was the last week when we were there when he slipped a band on my ring finger. It was just a delicate, thin, white gold band, and it had nearly given me a heart attack. I was just supposed to 'try it out'. I was just supposed to 'see how it feels'. He made sure to tell me that he wasn't asking me yet and that this ring was far from the real deal. The inscription on the inside made it feel lighter – 'Property of P. Fischer'.

From the moment he slipped it on, it never felt heavy, and it was almost like it had been there my entire life, like an appendage almost. I never took it off. He might have had an ass backwards way of going about things, and it certainly created some stares and some questions, but considering all that he had given me that first weekend we ever spent together and to what we were now…well, I wouldn't change a thing. I was his then just like I was his now.

Two weeks ago I started receiving subscriptions to bridal and wedding magazines in the mail. My first instinct was to yell at Peter, but he was knee deep in finishing up a project for another subdivision down in Florida. Plus, two weeks ago it made absolutely no sense. I called the number inside _Brides_ to find out that I had a paid-for subscription for one year by one Alice Cullen-Whitlock. I burned the fuckers in my fire pit, and I never said anything to Peter.

There was no contact other than that made by Alice or Jasper - at least none that I knew about. But it set me off. And after Peter slipped the ring on my finger, it all made sense. Whether she had seen what would eventually happen didn't matter - if I ever ended up marrying Peter, my wedding - or marriage for that matter - wouldn't be orchestrated by Alice or anyone else.

I had to wonder what was going through her mind when she did that. I didn't need to know my future, and I didn't need any futile attempts to repair a friendship I didn't think I needed. I felt pretty goddamn satisfied watching this year's Vera Wang go up in smoke.

It was 12:10PM when I finally found a spot to park in at Santa Fe Airport. By the time I made it through security and to Seth's gate, it was twelve-twenty. His flight was just taxiing its way up to the gate, and the heat outside was rolling off the tarmac in waves.

Debbie and I were going to take Seth to the Thirsty Ear Festival down at Eaves Movie Ranch that night. It had been Seth's idea, actually. He had a taste for the arts, as far as music was concerned, and there was a Native American band playing that he had seen at a celebration in Hoquiam.

The next day, the three of us would be making the trek down to Las Cruces, where we would stay for two nights. We were going to visit White Sands National Monument, and maybe the caverns, and then make the short trek down to Juarez City to visit the flea market district, and maybe enjoy some of the nightlife across the border.

All in all, I was looking forward to it. Seth had never traveled away from the northwest, and I had never seen White Sands or anything south of Albuquerque. He already had a list of things to buy to bring back to Sue, and I was hell bent on Seth having a great time while he was there.

Two days before that - the last time I talked to Seth - I got the feeling that he was looking forward to this visit more than anyone. There had been some underlying tension in his voice. When I asked him about it, he sighed and just said that he was really looking forward to getting away from Forks for a little bit. When I talked to Charlie afterward, I found out that Seth had been awarded a ten thousand dollar scholarship to the University of Colorado. Charlie's voice had a hint of pride, but I found it strange that Seth never mentioned it.

I watched the arrivals file out of a gate. Seth had said he was seated towards the back of the plane, in coach. The last picture I received of Seth was one of his senior pictures, and the changes were shocking. He now looked more like a man in his 20s, but he had the grin of just a happy-go lucky kid.

He caught my eye immediately when I saw him walking through the last part of the corridor inside the gate. There wasn't any way to miss him, and someone should have taken that senior picture and wrote 'Size is much fucking larger in person' on it. He had to hunch his shoulders and keep his head lowered just to walk through the tunnel, and when he finally passed the gate, he straightened up. Not even Vern would have been able to match up to the mere size of him.

Seth was about 6'9", if I had to guess, and he was no longer the gangly, tall boy I had last seen in Forks. He was wearing a black T-shirt with a Mountain Dew logo on it, and it clung to him, showing that it was perhaps just a size too small. He had on a pair of old, faded blue jeans with one of the knees ripped out, and a pair of combat boots. He was built like a brick shithouse. His arms were huge, and the seams of his shirt stretched to the point where they looked like they would rip. His hair was long, all one length, and cut just above the shoulders. It was black as night, and he had it parted down the middle. He had rich, russet-colored skin, a strong jaw, bushy eyebrows arched up in surprise, and soft, dark eyes that found my immediately.

An excited grin graced his lips, and his teeth gleamed in the light coming from the windows.

For just a fleeting moment, I swore it was Jacob Black walking off that plane until I saw that grin. All the same, the shot of anger that rolled through me at the thought of Jacob Black coming here made me realize I would always look at him with disdain for the rest of my life.

Seth walked slowly towards me, carrying a black carry-on. I had to bite back the urge to laugh as he looked me over from head to toe. Twice. When he was just three feet away, he stopped. He raised his eyebrows, and even the grin was one of disbelief.

His voice was even deeper.

"Bella Swan."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

I, Seth Clearwater, am a fucking idiot.

I don't make that statement lightly. Right when I walked off that plane, I knew that life for me had changed in that very instant. I could feel it all the way down to the marrow in my bones. I didn't know how, and I didn't know why, but something in the back of my head told me that my life was about to change. And I knew that when I went home in a week's time, it would be the first thing out of Jake's mouth. 'Seth, you're a fucking idiot.'

So, it was better to tell myself now, and get used to hearing those words - that way I wouldn't take the opportunity to bite into that motherfucker's hamstring when he turned his back. Because, believe it or not, I was smart enough to know that the only way I could get the jump on Jake would be to do it when his back was turned.

Besides, who knew what was going to happen in my absence? Charlie might just as well have decided to go off the deep end and decide that Jake was worth shooting after all.

In which case, I would be a fucking idiot for not cluing Jake in as to why Charlie just up and decided _why_ Jake was worth shooting now.

But that wasn't my fault. _No, no_. Jake could have taken the easy way out a long time ago and simply told Charlie the truth, and then maybe Charlie would have realized he had really had no choice. But at the same time, Jake _had_ had a choice. And if Charlie ever realized that, he might just go for his head.

I _would_ be the fucking idiot - not just because I didn't tell Jake that Charlie was now aware of the existence of vampires and werewolves, but because I'd be the fucking idiot who was right - our brain matter wouldn't regenerate if we blew our heads off. Jake thought it would, but I didn't believe that. One good shot to the head and we were ghosts, just like the Elders were.

But in all essence, _Jake_ was a fucking idiot. He was the one who never laid down the law to my mother - or to any of us, for that matter. The moment he took over as Alpha, he only had one thing on his mind, and that was Bella Swan. Sam's old laws were gone, and although Jake's voice - his _commands_ - was much stronger, Jake would never take away our free will.

It had all started because I got nosy, and I got nosy because I wanted to know what the pack was saying about me and about the choice I was making. I had received a scholarship to the University of Colorado - something I had applied for in an attempt to get out of La Push and to get out of Forks. I wanted live my life the way it should have been meant to be lived - to study Biology, Ecology, and Animal Behavior.

Moving to Boulder for four short years was the plan, and then after that I had every intention of moving to Montana to become a scientist for the university's well-known Canis lupis program. I wanted to study wolves. I wanted to study the effects of global climate change and deforestation on all animal populations of the greater Rocky Mountain range. I wanted to be an anthropologist. I wanted to be a conservationist. I wanted to be someone.

I didn't want be stuck in Forks or La Push for the rest of my life, chasing after ghosts or bloodsucking angels of death while nickel and diming it at Jake's shop. I wanted to enjoy my youth, and I wanted to make a difference. And I wanted to maybe have a family someday. I wanted to find my woman, and something told me I'd never find her living on the goddamn eastern peninsula of Washington State.

What was embraced by me - and by my mother, my sister, and my stepfather - was not so easily embraced by my brothers. The pack. It was my choice, and Jake understood that. But Paul, Jared, and Embry could not. Paul and Jared were the worst - they couldn't understand how easily I could find it to leave my family behind to chase after a dream – a dream that I could 'easily chase after in Community College'. According to dickhead Paul, I was abandoning all of them to become something I couldn't be. I was abandoning my heritage while trying to abandon my curse - my _real_ purpose.

Nobody asked me if I wanted to be a fucking dog. When it came down to it, I'd rather run on two legs than run on four, just to pause and bite at my ass because a goddamn flea jumped on me or because a wood tick decided to take up residence and suck the life out of me.

_Fucking bloodsuckers_. Ticks were cringe-worthy.

But it wasn't like I was not going to use my genes to my advantage. Studying real wolves and real packs while having the ability to become one was sure to come in handy, and scientific breakthroughs in knowledge would preserve the species and others from ever dwindling again.

And I'd get my name in the paper.

Chasing ghosts and those that didn't seem to exist anymore was stupid, and I had dreams. By following Jake's, I would get nowhere. Dad never wanted that kind of life for me. I believed that much.

But that was why I shifted last Saturday night in my bedroom - Bella's old room. I was being a nosy fucker. Oh, sure, they put on the smiles at my graduation and at the party at Sam and Emily's afterward. Sam and Jake were happy, and they congratulated me and whatnot, but even Jake was a little standoffish. The rest of the pack, with their girlfriends and wives, smiled accordingly and kept their opinions to themselves.

The 'real' talk would begin later when Paul, Jared, Quil, and I took a run through the pass and down the shore, patrolling for a ghost that would never be seen again.

"_You think we all don't want more for ourselves? We just have our priorities, and our families come first. We're supposed to protect the tribe. That's what we were made for. I don't like it any better than you do."_

"_Shut up, Paul. Just because you're a fucking idiot doesn't mean we all are. It's his choice. It's not like you won't come back, right?"_

"_Oh, what, Quil, like he's intelligent and I'm not? I thought you wanted to be a cop, anyways? You know, follow in step daddy's footsteps…"_

"_Maybe I still will be. Maybe I'll become a forest ranger, and then I could investigate just who keeps leaving piles of dog shit the size of horse dung behind Rachel's house almost every day. How does she put up with that?"_

"_Go fuck yourself. It's not me. It's that fucking mutt that Embry and Mary bought."_

"_The University here's plenty good. You shouldn't leave, Seth. What if something happens to Sue? Or Charlie? What if we need you? He's still out there, you know. He could come back. He could bring others."_

"_If he hasn't come back, I doubt he ever will. You're just as obsessed as Jake is. And the University here doesn't have a very comprehensive program. Plus, I didn't get a scholarship to the University of Washington - I got a scholarship to the University of Colorado. I don't want res money, and I don't wanna go to school here."_

"_They always come back. We're a threat to the species. The Cullens could come back someday, too. Go ahead! Go live the 'dream' - just don't ask me to watch your family while you're a thousand miles away."_

"_Don't listen to him, Seth. We'll take care of your family. Jared, Paul? Jake's up. Get over to..."_

It would have been alright if I hadn't have curled up on the floor and listened for the rest of the night. It would have been alright if I had even bothered with phasing back. But it wasn't alright.

Because Charlie, who had already caught me sneaking out once to go run patrol, liked to check my room sometimes during the night whenever he woke up to go take a piss. And the moment I heard the door handle turn and the bellowing curse escape his mouth, I knew that I was screwed. I would have been doubly screwed if the guys hadn't decided to shift back to human to go jumping off the cliff.

I made it a point to not phase back again - or go to La Push - before I got on the plane to go see Bella. Because the shit was going to hit the fan. And the truth was, I kind of hoped I wasn't around when it did.

At first, mom and I were both worried - worried that Charlie was on the verge of a heart attack - and that was almost too much to take. He turned as white as a ghost and blew an eye vessel. And at first, both mom and I merely looked at each other and wondered if we could play it off as a figment of Charlie's imagination. The only problem was, he didn't have any. And Charlie was goddamn adamant that he'd seen a huge wolf inside my room, and then a naked me.

We never could get him to put down the gun. There wasn't any goddamn way we could keep the truth from him forever. Plus, I think between me and my mother, we were silently thankful that we didn't have to play the hand signal game anymore, let alone lie. Mom couldn't stand lying to Charlie.

So my mom told the story. She told him all of it from her perspective. He took it as well as expected. I cowered in the doorway of the kitchen, listening and filling in the gaps, because sitting next to him by the table was gonna take some time for him to get used to. Bella wasn't around to defend herself, but I told him her story too. The secret was out, and mom figured we might as well tell him the whole story.

His finger was on the trigger, and I wondered if he'd be changing his mind about going to visit Jake or coming down to 'surprise' Bella. Taking my ticket had crossed his mind.

But everything just seemed to fall together for Charlie - from Bella's fall down the stairs in Phoenix, to her becoming a vegetable for a few months, to her near drowning months later off the cliffs of La Push, and to the end when she left Forks after Jake fell in love with someone else. Now he had reasons to be proud of her - proud because she had finally done the right thing and run away.

But he felt betrayed by his own family, and he felt betrayed by his own daughter. But he understood it, too. It took some time, but he understood it. And through everything my mother, Leah, and I had suffered, he knew we all really had no choice.

"_Do you hate what you are?"_

"_Every fucking day, Charlie."_

It was that pause - the look in his eyes - that took my breath away.

"_You didn't kill your father, son."_

"_I know. I blame fate, and I blame God for making werewolves and vampires…and messed up genes."_

But his daughter was a different story. And at first he was well on his way down to Santa Fe himself to have it out with Bella. All of it was a hard thing for him to take, and though he knew the facts, he didn't want to know all of the particulars.

"_Bella didn't have a choice either, Charlie. She had to keep the secret. It was the only way to protect you, and to protect Renee - not just from us, but from the Cullens as well. From _any_ of them."_

"_She had a choice. She could have told me. She lied to me. She lied to her mother. If I had known - if I had known what happened - I could have helped her better. You go find out what's going on with her, and don't you tell her that I know. It's up to her to come clean. Maybe someday she will."_

They spoke two days ago, and Charlie never once let on to all the things he now knew. He played it as cool as a cucumber, and that was fucking scary.

I didn't want to be the bearer of bad news, but there was no way I could keep this from Bella. Who knew if Charlie would change his mind and decide to go ahead and tell her he knew she'd been keeping the truth from him? And if he did, it might go better if she was prepared for it. But I didn't want to fuck up the recent euphoric wave that seemed to have struck her, and I didn't want to deal with a pissed off Bella either.

I was going to play it smart. I was going to wait until the end of the week. My momma didn't raise no idiot.

I wasn't a chicken shit. I was just into self preservation, is all.

I was really curious, though, about her recent change in attitude. She sounded more _alive_, more bubbly. Bella was _never_ bubbly, but she certainly wasn't the walking dead girl I saw that first time years ago at Jake's, and she certainly wasn't the post-Jake emotionless sack of shit I had spoken to on the phone my fair share of times.

It was obvious that something had changed, and both Charlie and I had wondered if it had to do with a guy. Charlie was somewhat hopeful that that was the case, and that she was finally out there 'living'. So was I, for that matter - just as long as he was actually _alive._

I had a feeling I'd find something else. Bella attracted the odd and the mythological. Knowing her luck, she was probably dating El Chupacabra himself and kissing the goat-eating bastard.

I could feel the heat trying to make its way into the plane. I hated planes. I hated flying. I hated the roars and ticks of the engines because those fuckers just sounded _wrong_. All it took was one good wind shear outside of Denver, and I was ready to scream like a girl and burst out of my skin.

But the Southwest was just as beautiful as the Northwest, in its own way - dry and desolate in one valley, rich vegetation in the other, and there were trees and bushes I had no names for. Canyons and gorges created by floods and running lava, and the beauty of the Sangre De Cristo Range from Colorado to New Mexico was unique. But it could never be compared to the thick and lush forests of the Northern Rockies. The valleys were dry and looked barren from the sky. It was almost as if this was where God had decided to play with nature a little bit, and he had mushed all the ecosystems together.

But I could see why Bella loved it. Maybe not so much right then, though, because it was abnormally hot and bright - almost too bright for a werewolf's eyes.

If she wanted a taste of the mountains and the forests, all she had to do was drive thirty minutes, but everything about this place screamed 'no mythological wanted'.

Walking out of the plane, through the tunnel, and out the gate, I had to hunch my shoulders. It was safe to say I wasn't a bit prepared for when I finally looked up.

There were three or four people waiting for loved ones outside the gate. Either Bella had aged about forty years and was six inches shorter, waiting for the potbellied phantom farter who had sat on the other side of the plane across from my seats, or she was the babe with the big, brown, layered curls wearing flip flops, a pair of short denim shorts, and a black tank top. And unmistakable, brown eyes that seemed to glare for a moment before they smiled with the rest of her face.

And tits…

I _so_ wished I could have imprinted right there - wires and chords and everything in between. She might have been my stepsister, but she was exactly that - my _stepsister_. We didn't share the same blood, and we could make beautiful children together.

She'd never look at me like that - just like I really _shouldn't_ look at _her_ like that. Jake would _so_ have my man pieces. Plus, we were friends. But I could dream.

She had gotten just a little bit taller. Her skin was still as pale as I remembered it to be, but she had a sun-kissed look about her - just a subtle glow - and her face was flushed with the heat. She was lean but strong, and although she was facing me with her jaw dropped and just as surprised as I was, the girl looked like she had _some_ caboose – nice, subtly round hips, firm thighs and calves, and she was catching the eyes of two businessmen who had walked to the side of her. I caught a whiff of her when I got closer. She smelled like vanilla and cherries.

Bella was fidgeting with her car keys in her left hand. I saw a silver band on her ring finger, or maybe it was white gold.

She had to be about a C-cup.

Her neck was more elongated, and her face was thinner…and older. Her bottom lip was just a little larger than her top. She was hot. My _sister_ was hot. And she smiled at me like I was 'her' sun.

"Bella Swan."

"Seth Clearwater." she said quietly, aghast. Her voice was just as articulate, just as feminine as I remembered it to be.

I decided to test _that_ button right then. "But not Jacob Black. Come on, you can admit it - when you first saw me, you thought I was him."

The truth was, I didn't look anything like Jacob, except in size. I had buffed up quite a bit since the last time I had seen her, and I had let my hair grow out. I was 6'10" now, and Jacob was bordering on seven feet. I gave Embry some competition, although I never saw it that way.

She grimaced purposefully. "Yeah, I did. But you're still you. I can see it. My God, Seth! You're fucking huge!"

She laughed out loud, and then she flung herself at me. All of a sudden I was holding onto a 110-pound, grade A _wo_-man with firm yet squishy boobies, who was tiny as shit yet able to squeeze me so hard. I felt welcome.

"Aww, Bella. I've really missed you. You look great. You _feel _great."

I knew what the lines were immediately. Bella _was_ my sister. There was no intimacy on either part, and I patted her ass before she patted my back and stepped away, laughing and shaking her head. And _WOW_, the happiness coming from her was unparalleled to anything I had ever felt or seen before. It seemed to seep through my skin and wrap around my heart.

"You are terrible. Watch it there, _brother_. I won't hesitate to kick you in your nuts," she warned with a smile ear-to-ear and a blush.

I gave her a smile back. "Just pointing out the obvious. Really, though, you look great. You're hot." I winked.

She shook her head. "Yeah, so are you. I mean, I…uh...forgot about the heat. Plus, you grew up more. You look like your dad, Seth," she said quietly, with a somewhat bittersweet smile. She fidgeted a little, looking down and around before she smiled brightly back up at me. "So, come on - let's go get your luggage. You're hungry, aren't you? We can hit up this great little taco stand I know of, if you want Mexican, or..."

"Do they use goat meat?"

She just laughed, and we headed down to the baggage claim to pick up my suitcases. I had two, only because my mother had made me take one to fill up with souvenirs and anything else I picked up off her list for when we went to the border. We made small talk while we waited for my luggage and then walked out to her truck. I told her about my dramatic flight, the phantom farter sitting on the opposite side of the plane from me, and she told me about the heat wave, and goat meat - which I found out wasn't a delicacy around these parts, but I could probably try some when we went down to the border.

Bella was infectious and animated as she spoke and moved. A couple of times, her loud and raucous laughter would catch me off guard, especially after I loaded a burrito with the 'green sauce'. But there were also flashes of tenseness behind her eyes. She bit her lip nervously when I handled a crystal hummingbird figurine that was hanging from her rear view mirror on the way to pick up four gigantic beef and bean burritos for me - with a side of re-fried beans and potatoes with cheese - and a soft shell for her.

It was culture shock at first, viewing the little world she had for herself down here. She took a route through the ghetto first, and then she showed me the club where she worked. There was desert dirt everywhere, bright and hot as hell, and fans were running in windows and even outside the overhangs of storefronts. There were buildings that were adobe architectural masterpieces - and houses too. There were trees that had no business being in this part of the country planted and in parks and in yards, and they would probably never reach their full maturity potential because it was so dry. There was a lot of ugly brush, and mountains to the east and to the west. Women were wearing shorts and bikini tops. I hated it and loved it all at the same time.

She showed me where she shopped, and she showed me the places she liked to eat, promising me that after the weekend, she'd take me to each one. Charlie and mom gave me five hundred bucks to spend at leisure, plus I had another couple hundred that I had saved from working at Jake's shop so I could buy my mother and sister nice pairs of earrings. Maybe diamonds.

We drove south to her house, passing under the freeway. She made a right into a nice lived-in neighborhood and drove two blocks, making a left on a street called Eden. Her house was at a dead end, partially covered in shade by a tree line that extended further to the west. Her front yard was mostly river rock. She had two small trees sitting on opposite sides of the sidewalk, and they led to the alcove for the front door. Her house was a sienna-colored adobe - small and quaint, with large picture windows. Her driveway was small, but she had an attached garage. She opened it up and pulled in.

Bella showed me her house. We entered through an L-shaped kitchen next to the laundry room, where I took off my boots, but not before she showed me her backyard. It was much larger than the front yard, and she had grass and a small garden with tomato plants sitting next to the 'woods', as she liked to call it. The living room was immaculate. A large, brown, leather sofa sat facing the TV and picture window, another chair next to the fire place. There was a large bookcase filled with books and pottery against the wall that separated her kitchen and living room. We walked down a small hallway, where she showed me the bathroom and the spare bedroom - the bedroom I'd be sleeping in. I had a small dresser to use if I wanted to, a phone on the nightstand, and a sky green quilt that I would throw off the comfy, queen-sized bed because it was too damn hot, even in the air conditioning.

She showed me her room, which was across from mine. It was romantic and elegant, with champagne-colored walls and bedding, and there was a small master bathroom and small walk in closet.

The house was immaculately clean. The hardwood floors smelled new. I could still smell the fresh paint, although it had probably worn off on Bella's senses.

Like, a little paint, 409, and Lysol would do the trick.

As if I didn't notice her nervousness. Her _apprehension_.

And this was precisely why Jacob would be telling me that I was a fucking idiot a week from now. Because the only thing I smelled when I stepped out of her fucking truck was the faint yet sickly sweet scent of a fucking vampire.


	19. Chapter 18 The Ghost & the Darkness

Chapter 18. The Ghost and the Darkness Part I

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***S*E*T*H***

It pissed me off. Every nerve tingled with the need to phase. It was in my nature to want to protect against anything that foul smelling.

But I kept my cool.

I had to. Because I had no idea what was going on with her. I had no idea who this girl was now. I had come to see Bella with the notion that she was just a normal, twenty-one year old college student, who worked at a bar to make ends meet, and who just so happened to have dated a vampire and a wolf once upon a time.

I was able to recognize the most obvious, of course - there was, or had been, a vampire in her home. No amount of cleaning or airing out the house could cover up that goddamn, sweet stench. There was no doubt that I would fail at winning a battle if I chose to make it an issue right then and there, with nothing to go on but just a faint-ass scent. My mind was telling me one thing while my body was telling me another.

A vampire had been in her house. But it didn't smell recent. The scent in the hallway was the strongest, and I had to resist the urge to get down on all fours and smell her goddamn floor.

A vampire.

A ring on her finger.

Someone she knew. Someone she trusted.

Edward Cullen.

I was just assuming at that point, and it took all my focus just to keep myself in my skin. It made me angry. Did she think I was a fucking idiot? Did she think - or did _they_ think - she could pull one off on me? Did she think I'd be able to resist the urge to wanna kill whichever bloodsucker was dwelling about? Did she think I'd be able to sleep in this goddamn house for one minute?

There wasn't a member of the pack or anyone related in some way who didn't know what Edward Cullen's leaving had done to her. There wasn't a member of the pack or anyone related in some way who hadn't seen what she had gone through when Jake imprinted, thanks to my sister. I think it was safe to say, though, that the best thing Bella ever did for herself was leave. And we all respected that. We all respected her, and we were all happy for Jake and angry with him at the same time - especially Leah and me. You don't watch your sister get her goddamn heart ripped out, and then watch your future stepsister go through the same goddamn thing and _not_ want what's best for her.

I had to do some quick thinking and form a quick plan of action.

And my plan was to do nothing at all.

Bella was twenty-one, going on twenty-two. If she couldn't learn from her own goddamn mistakes, then it was her problem. It was _her_ life. The only fucking thing I didn't care for was her trying to pull one over on me, and if I had enough respect for her to let her do whatever the hell she wanted, she should have had enough goddamn respect for me to tell me the motherfucking truth.

So, if she wanted to play games, we could play games. Now I was looking forward to the end of the week when I would tell her that her daddy knew she used to play with the enemy and that it was a shame she was probably fucking him now, too.

But how? When? Why? I wanted to know. A part of me wanted her to be happy, no matter what she'd found. I knew her once upon a time, and I knew her when she experienced the worst. She had changed so much, and time had gone by, so I really didn't know her at all anymore. But vampires? Was she playing with vampires again?

"You have a nice house, Bella. It's all you."

She smiled back at me. We were walking back into the kitchen, and she still had her soft shell and I still had two burritos to conquer.

"Thanks. It took me a while to find the right place. And, well, now it's not the right place anymore. But tell me about Charlie! How are our parents doing?" She grabbed the remaining contents out of the bag, and we sat down on a couple of bar stools at the counter in her L-shaped kitchen.

I, of course, wondered what she meant about it not being the right place anymore, but I knew she wanted to talk about home.

"They're happy and in love. Do you know how damaging it is to see your father slip my mother the tongue? Plus, I hear _everything_. At least two nights a week I sleep out in the yard. But they're good. _Real_ good."

She laughed. "Oh, God. Well, even parents have sex. But, yeah, I couldn't imagine. Tell me more." She pulled out the container of green sauce and put two heaping spoonfuls of the shit on her taco.

"Well, your dad's been busy training John Martin and Richard Smalley to take over for him when he retires...stop it. Jesus, you're just as bad as mom. His name is 'Richard'."

She had started laughing right when she took a bite of her taco. It had taken both of her hands to lift the gargantuan fucker up to her mouth, and she swallowed, grimacing and tearing up almost immediately.

"I can't help it. That name is just all sorts of wrong," she said with her mouth still full. "Even dad said the other guys rake Deputy Smalldick over the coals. Plus, dad told me he really is a dick. He thinks he's all big and bad because he thinks he'll win the town vote."

I swallowed my bite. "He _is_ a dick. He gave me a ticket for going five miles an hour over the speed limit in town. Plus, he threatened to take away my license because I started arguing with him when he told me I didn't stop completely before I turned on Main. Which I did. Your dad threw it out. It pissed him off when Dick told him he needed to enforce the law in his own home. Charlie's silently pushing the voters to vote for John."

She nodded and hummed out around a bite. "Hmm. Martin's a better choice anyway. He's been there longer. He grew up in Forks; he's got a lot of time in with the department. People will like him better, I think. He's easygoing, like my dad."

I nodded.

She took a sip of her soda. "So...how's the 'pack'?" she asked before taking another bite. I noticed the inflection in her tone and the glance she threw me.

"They're good. Everybody's happy and healthy. Old Quil's on his last breath, but other than that, they're all good."

I decided to keep it simple. I didn't know how much she wanted to hear or _what_ she wanted to hear.

"What's wrong with Old Quil?" she asked.

"What isn't wrong with him? He's just old. He's got a spot on his lungs now. His kidneys are starting to go, too. Quil's handling it pretty well. Claire keeps him busy. She can read now, you know. Emily wanted me to tell you 'hi', and she told me to tell you that she misses you and hopes you're doing okay. Sam says the same. In fact, everyone wanted me to tell you 'hi'."

Bella said nothing. She just continued to eat.

"Leah's pregnant."

That got her attention.

"She is?" She was looking at me hopefully.

I had to smile because it was the best news we had received in the last two weeks, besides my scholarship win, although we were still sort of waiting.

"Yeah. But she's only about seven weeks, so we're trying to keep it quiet. But...yeah, _that's_ FAIL. She's not phased for over a year, Bella. It took about seven months for her period to start up. But, yeah, she's not frozen after all. She says she's not getting her hopes up, but she is. And Daniel's ecstatic. He's already looking for a bigger place in Hoquiam."

She breathed out and looked away. "I'm so glad everything worked out for her. I'm glad she found Daniel."

I nodded. "We all are. Sam especially." I slid forward a little so I could reach in my back pocket. "Here. We might as well get this out of the way," I mumbled. I popped Jake's letter down on the counter.

Before I got there, I had been kind of dreading her reaction to this. I didn't want to be Jake's message boy, and I would have preferred it if he had just mailed the fucking thing, like he mailed everything else. But he gave it to me the night of my graduation, and I decided to pass it off just so I didn't start some shit.

She gave me a knowing look but asked anyway. "What's that?"

I shrugged at her. "A letter from Jake. Want me to tell you what it says? I didn't read it, but I know what's about."

Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know what it's about?"

"Mind connection, ya know? He knows he's a fucking jerk. I told him he was when he sent that last shitty letter to you. Do you read them, Bella?"

She took the rest of her taco and the letter off the counter and stood up. "Yeah, I do. It's not that I don't care how he's doing. In fact, I'm happy that he's happy, now more than ever. But at the same time, I wish he'd just stop. The shit's gotten way past old, Seth."

She threw away the remains of her taco and read quickly through the letter. When she was done, she threw it away in the garbage. She noticed me watching her and started to run her dishwater.

"I don't care about ever fixing things with Jake. I've never felt the need to. People grow apart. Even friends. I'm glad he's happy. But Forks…and the memories...I'm still a little bit of a scorned bitch, I guess. I'm never going back there." She shook her head and looked at me. Her eyes told me she was being honest. "There are only a few reasons why I'll ever go back to that hell hole, and none of them will be happy ones. But there's just so much...mmm." She just shook her head and sighed.

I could tell she was trying to tell me she'd never go back unless someone died, but I got the feeling there was something else holding her back from ever returning to Forks.

"You won't come see the baby? Leah would want you to. It's not fair you ask everyone to come see you - and on your terms. If you're so over Jake, why are you so afraid to take a trip?" I asked.

It was out of my mouth before I even had time to really think it through. My mind was running a mile a minute, but I was also running on all cylinders, thinking about why she'd never come back to visit her family for reasons other than someone dying.

There was only one conclusion I could come up with. She could never go back…because she wouldn't be human.

She just looked at me. I couldn't tell if she was just speechless because she couldn't tell the truth, or if she was wondering herself why she couldn't go back. There was always the hope that there were other possibilities. There was the thought that maybe she wasn't entirely involved with them again. But the only way I would get the truth was to dig it out, little by little, until she decided to be more forthcoming. I also had to wonder if I had pissed her off because she seemed to be seething inside, and she was staring at me like she wanted me to catch fire, or something.

She turned back towards the sink.

"That's a good question, Seth." She started to wash her dishes. "I know it's not fair. And you know what? I'm gonna try. When Leah has the baby, I'll try to come visit. There really is no reason for me not to come up. I can put up with Jake's shit if I have to. Who knows? Maybe a face-to-face will do us both some good - or do _me_ some good. The only thing I'll ever have to say to him is 'good luck with your life, now leave me the hell alone'. I can't promise anything, though. Between school, work, and moving, I'm gonna be pretty busy the next several months. But I'll try."

I didn't believe one fucking word of it. Well, maybe one thing, but she was obviously offended. She obviously felt like she owed us something. Plus, I guess maybe I was laying it on a little thick. It wasn't like we were all close family - because we weren't. We weren't really brother and sister, and Leah and Bella had never really had a fantastic relationship.

I felt like an asshole.

"Aww, Bella. I didn't mean to...push anything on you. I wasn't trying to say you're not being…"

"Fair, Seth?" She looked over at me with an icy grin. "I'm not being fair. Even I know that." She turned to look out the window, glowering, while she took a layer of gloss off a plate.

I had pissed her off, and I hadn't even been in the house for thirty minutes. Things were off to a great start.

"I was gonna say you're the other sister I always wanted. Leah doesn't have time for me anymore. She's all in love and glowing and shit. I could use some sisterly advice right now."

Okay, so I _was_ laying it on really thick. But it was the truth, and I was trying to get to the bottom of things and wiggle myself into her heart a little. Bella was kind of a cold bitch - not that I guess she didn't have reason to be, and not that I wasn't pushing all the wrong buttons.

She turned on the water to rinse her dishes and sighed. "Seth, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a bitch towards you."

"I know. Besides, if anyone has a right to be a bitch, Bella, it's you. You leaving Forks was the best thing for everyone concerned, even me. I can say that now, but back then I kind of wished you had stayed around. Jake deserved to suffer a little bit. It's hard for me, ya know. I see and feel the love, the devotion, and it's some powerful stuff. I can't _not_ be happy for them. But I saw what it was doing to my sister. Even after. And I saw what it did to you, and I wanted to beat the shit out of them both at one point. I think we all wanted to beat the shit out of Jake when he broke up with you. Well, for the exception of Paul. But Paul's an asshole. Always has been," I muttered as an afterthought.

My tone piqued her interest, and she smiled through most of my speech as she stacked dishes in her dish drainer. "Thanks, Seth. That really means a lot to me," she said softly. "But what's going on with you? Something's the matter. Something's wrong. I could tell the other day on the phone, too. Talk."

I took a drink of my soda. "Not everybody's happy about my scholarship, or about me leaving La Push for that matter. That's all. Honestly, I didn't even think I had a chance. You know how many people applied for that scholarship? Over twelve thousand."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Who's not happy?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "It's not mom or your dad - they're both thrilled and proud. The pack's just giving me a hard time, is all."

"Why?"

"Because I'll be leaving. I'll be moving to Boulder in August to go to school. I'll be giving up…my 'purpose'. I'm a wolf. I'm _supposed_ to serve and protect the human species from bloodsuckers. As long as the threat exists, we're supposed to eliminate them. Paul and Jared don't think I'll be able to stick it out. They're just pissy because it means they'll all have to pick up more runs since Jake has to watch over his wife more now. And with me gone...well, you know… Linae has to see special doctors. Her pregnancy's high risk. She's got diabetes," I told her when she looked confused.

She was frowning even more, and she had walked up to stand on the other side of the counter. "Yeah, Charlie told me. What does Jake think about you going off to college?" she asked, jutting her chin out.

"Aww, he's happy for me and all, but he doesn't want me to leave either. Losing Sam and Leah was bad enough. Losing me makes things worse. They're all just worried for their families. It's not like I wouldn't go back if something happened, you know? I'd run the whole way. Not that it matters, I guess. If anything happened, I'd probably still be too late."

She just stared at me for a moment. Maybe I should have expected what would come next, but I didn't all the same. Maybe it was because I wasn't thinking everything through. I was just talking, getting it out. I needed someone to tell me I was making the right decision for myself. Plus, I think I realized right at that moment that Jake wasn't keeping her in the loop about everything.

He was a fucking idiot.

She shook her head, groaning under her breath. "I'm confused. Why would something...happen? And why, after all this time, is the pack still running patrols? Victoria's dead. Did something happen?"

The first thought I had caused the weight of the order to come crashing down, and it was all I could do to not fall out of that chair. Jake's first order ever as Alpha was to never tell the secret - never tell anyone about the 'other'.

My throat closed off, and it was all I could do to just breathe.

Motherfucker...

The ghost. The angel. The vampire with no name.

There weren't any of us who didn't know what _he_ looked like, and in the water that day - the very day my father died - we all saw him with crystal clear clarity, like we were looking at him with our own eyes, instead of just Jake's.

A man. A vampire. And at first, Jake had thought he was an angel - a beautiful angel in the dark but lit depths of the raging sea.

It was lit because the water seemed to sparkle and dance around him, touching the man and caressing his skin. Tiny fibers of the purest light and strongest energy moved around the man, acting like a barrier, and making it seem like he was untouchable.

Dark, wet hair, but it was blond too. He was lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. It floated above his face, and the sparkles of light worked around him, making him more surreal. He was naked - not that Jake was looking - and the man had these eyes...

But they were bright fucking red.

And to me, though they were soft, they were so full of unimaginable pain and wonder that it was difficult to think of him as a common vampire. It was almost like he had seen what Heaven looked like. And hell.

That's what I had thought, and they had captured everyone's attention.

He was as pale as an ashen piece of driftwood.

But he was no more than a vampire. He was a bloodsucker who feasted on the blood of humans.

The water had seemed to bend at his will, and he moved effortlessly, gliding almost. And Victoria herself had seemed awestruck by the man. It was almost as if he had stripped her of everything that made her the fierce and gifted creature she was. He pushed her toward Jake and smiled at him. He brought his index finger up to his mouth and held it against his lips. It was almost like an order from God himself to keep it a secret.

The exchange had been quick, but we all saw him. We all thought for a moment that he wasn't real - that he was either an angel or a ghost.

I saw him while I watched my father die on the floor, unable to phase back because I didn't know then how to. But to this day, I can still see the angel's face with crystal clear clarity. And for a moment, I thought my father could see him through my eyes.

With the pack, he was thought of a lot.

He was the very reason my brothers could never stop attempting to hunt him down or hunt his kind, and the very reason we thought Jake was batting for the other team because there was only one word that immediately entered his mind when he first saw him. And he still thought it.

Beautiful.

But he was. And only the likes of Paul and Jared gave him more shit for it than anybody else. It helped spur him on to want to kill the beast, to find and kill the man. The animal.

It was only when things had settled down that everyone faced the truth of the matter. At least Jake did. A vampire had helped us capture and kill Victoria. We didn't know what his motivations were. We didn't know if he had his own vendetta against the woman, or if he was simply using us for the time being to take care of some dirty work.

We didn't know if he'd come back or if he'd come back to kill us. To kill our families. We were the enemy and he was ours. And if the Cullens could come back, then so could he - to eliminate us. They _always_ came back.

We searched the area and ran grid patterns for weeks, always in groups of threes, sometimes three times a day. We ran all the way up to the Vancouver coastline and all the way south to the California border. We found nothing. It was as if he had been a ghost.

We all wanted to find him and kill him - no matter what he was packing.

Large, naked man. Tall. Lean. Pale. All sparkly. Big dick.

Not that I was looking…

But Jake heeded the vampire's message…warning…whatever it was.

_Keep the secret.  
_  
No one was told - not Emily, not the girlfriends, and above all, not Bella. She was going through so much back then, and he didn't want to cause her any unnecessary alarm, which was a first for Jake since he usually told her _everything_.

He never could figure out why, but he said something to me once when we were out on a run. He said that he felt like something was restraining him, like an order from Sam or a command from an Alpha, although we could not feel it.

But I had a feeling deep down in my gut, which seemed to always spread to my heart, that this man - this _vampire_ - would never come back to hurt us. I didn't know why, and I didn't know how I could feel this way. Honestly, I wanted every last one of the dead motherfuckers to die.

I wasn't cruel and I wasn't heartless. I knew through Bella that no one asked to be a vampire. I knew through Bella that Carlisle Cullen thought he was saving 'lives'. I knew through Bella that they were just as capable of loving and 'living' under somewhat normal circumstances as we were. Well…as normal as they could get. And as far as the Cullens were concerned, they had my utmost respect for trying to be better than the rest of their kind and for having respect for humanity. But the rest could burn in hell for all I cared.

I always thought that if I ever had the chance to kill a vampire - a _true_ bloodsucker - that I'd try to do it swiftly. And it was like I told Charlie - I neither blamed their existence for my father's death nor did I blame myself. I blamed God for creating the likes of both our kind. I was angry at him for letting my father die.

But that's how things were supposed to be. We all die. At least, we're _supposed_ to. I also believe there is a reason for everything, no matter how simple or how heartbreaking it is.

So when she asked that question and I had that thought about why we could never give up, I nearly fell out of my chair and lost control of my bowels. It was a fact that whenever I wanted to attempt to disobey any of Jake's commands, generally my bowels liked to try to clean themselves out.

I still wasn't the one leaving piles of shit in Rachel's backyard though.

"Seth?"

I had looked away from her, just to make sure I wasn't shitting all over her chair. I was gripping her counter top something fierce. I had to think quickly again. She was looking at me, more than a little more concerned - almost like she was wondering if she'd have to perform CPR.

"Seth, are you okay?" She started to step around the counter.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I'm good."

She paused. "No, you're not. You look like you're gonna get sick, or something." She stopped trying to move around the counter top, but she leaned forward to put her hand on my forehead. The look on her face told me she had forgotten yet again that I run a cool 104 degrees.

"Naw, I'm good. I think I ate too much, that's all. I'm fine. _Really_." I looked away from her, embarrassed. I didn't feel like my bowels were gonna drop anything anymore, but I was starting to get a headache.

She was looking at me like she didn't believe me, calculating.

"We've never stopped running patrols, Bella. We were running them when you left. You remember - protecting the race, and all that. Jake runs us every day. He runs too." That was as much as I could say.

Her eyes were full of disbelief and shock. She didn't say anything for a moment. "But…why? Is he looking to get you all killed? Is he looking for a fight? None of you will age. And you, you're still growing. Aren't you?"

I nodded at her. "Yeah, but it's slowed down. I'm as big as the rest of them now, except for Jake and Embry. I'm pretty sure I could take Embry, not that I'd ever want to. But I can kick Paul's ass. Quil's fine with it 'cuz he's waiting for Claire, you know? So, we run patrols. Sometimes we go all the way up to Makah, or we go south down the Oregon coast. Eighteen months ago, Jared and Paul came across a lone bloodsucker down by Longview. They got him, but Jared got his leg broken. They're still out there, Bella. And if they come anywhere near Forks or La Push, they're gonna die."

She was silent, and I watched her shiver. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she looked liked she was growing more pissed by the second.

She didn't say anything.

"Bella?"

She blinked, and then she sighed, long and hard.

"And you don't want to be a part of it anymore. You want to go to college, and you want to live your life," she asked quietly, although there seemed to be some built up anger behind her voice.

I cowered…because I swear her hard gaze was about to level me to dust. I was a wolf, and I was more than twice her body weight, but I was still afraid of her. I was afraid of _all_ women.

"Yeah, pretty much. It's not for me, you know? I wanna do things. I wanna be somebody. It's Jake's legacy, not mine. My dad wouldn't want that." I looked away from her.

She was quiet for just a moment.

"You're right, he wouldn't. And fuck anyone who thinks you should stick around just so you can kill something that might not deserve to die. I know you hate them but they're still goddamn people. They can still think and they can still feel. My God! What the fuck is he thinking?! Does he think he can kill the whole goddamn race?! Because, I gotta tell ya, there's probably hundreds, if not thousands, of goddamn vampires running around the world. If he kills the wrong one, he's gonna be sorry when the shit storm comes to La Push - not to mention what he's doing to all of you. My God, he's crazy," she breathed out. She walked away in disgust to go dry her dishes.

I got up to take the remainder of my last burrito and the wrappers to the trash. In a way, it was kind of nice to know I had her on my side of things. God help the man who really pissed her off.

"How do you know that? How do you know how many there are?"

She grabbed a bunch of silverware and dropped a fork. "I don't. But Edward told me a story once about some vampires who lived over in Italy. They enforce the law, so to speak. They go out and exterminate the ones who threaten to bring awareness to humanity. The ones who kill too much. Carlisle Cullen knew some of them. Some of them are thousands of years old, Seth. And the way Edward told it, it sounded like there were more than just a few."

There used to be a time when she could never say his name. Now it rolled off her tongue like she could care less about the bloodsucker. And, through that entire conversation, she didn't hesitate. Not one second. Bella was a shitty fucking actress, and if she was lying, I'd like to think I'd be able to pick it out.

Maybe I was assuming wrong. Maybe she didn't know a vampire had been in her house. Maybe she learned how to act. She just looked worried, but she was also angry and irritated to high hell.

Maybe she was just worried about us. About the pack. About the vampires. She couldn't hate anybody. It just wasn't in her nature.

"The Volturi, right? What, you think if the pack kills the wrong one, they'll bring down the law, or something?"

She could have been right. I remembered the story I had heard from Jake about them. I could see what she was thinking. I took the dishrag out of the water to wash the counter top where we had eaten while she dried the dishes and put them away.

"Yeah, precisely. But there are probably other covens out there, too. Is Jake willing to risk all your lives just to kill vampires? Is he willing to risk your family's life, and his, all because of his 'legacy'? His 'curse'? His legacy's in those kids that Linae's carrying. You're all supposed to protect, not hunt. But, whatever… It's his choice. I won't be able to sympathize with him if he gets you all killed, or himself. And, my God, what about Linae? What about Mary, and Rachel, and Kim, and Claire, and Emily? What if Sam ever decides he can hop around on three legs? I bet they're not too keen on growing old while they're men stay young. And what about you? I just can't fucking believe it." she scoffed, shaking her head.

She was going way overboard, but it was all true. I was having a hard time not laughing, though, because she just seemed really pissed.

"Well, it's not like Jake's planning on doing it forever, Bella. Plus, it's not like he's making anyone do what he wants us to do. They want to do it. None of us…none of _them_, I should say, want to be all young while their imprints get old, and shit. Jake's already starting to back off. Linae's more important to him than anything. Same goes with the rest of them. We'll all have to stop some day. I guess I'm the only one who really doesn't need to," I muttered.

She paused as she opened up a top cupboard to stick a glass inside and looked at me. I leaned against the cupboards by her sink and just looked at her floor. It was kind of funny how the tables had turned. Where I was trying to find out information, she was making me feel all uncomfortable in my fucking skin. She was getting the short version of the last three and a half years.

I was a pussy when it came to women. That was a fact.

She stuck the glass inside, closed the cupboard, and walked over a couple of steps, mimicking my position against the cupboards by crossing her arms over her chest. She looked over at me.

"Why haven't I heard about you getting caught stealing some young girl's virtue? Are the girls playing hard to get?" Bella teased. But she was serious, too, and she nudged my arm.

I smiled at her condescendingly. "Because I'm not...in a hurry." I nudged her back, winking at her. "I'm not gonna waste some girl's time if I'm gonna turn around and break her heart. Watching Leah go through it and knowing that you pretty much went through the same thing had that effect, I guess. And I'm just not into using girls for a one night thrill."

She just stared at me for a moment. "So, you've...never had a girlfriend? You haven't...?" She gave me that _look_ - that 'I haven't had my cherry popped' _look_.

I glared at her because it was bad enough getting it from the guys. "No, I haven't dipped my dick yet, Bella. I've _jerked_ it…"

"Oh, please don't tell me." She cringed, laughing, and then she straightened herself out to look back up at me.

She sighed long and deep. "You're a kid, Seth. You shouldn't have to worry about inevitably breaking some girl's heart. You shouldn't have to worry about falling in love just to..." She stopped short, looking away to shake her head. "It's not fair to you. But it's a good thing you take it seriously. Most kids your age don't take it that seriously. It's a good thing." She said again as she looked back up at me with loving eyes. I knew she loved me just because I was me - a friend, a brother, someone who respected women too much. Nothing else.

Bella could have popped my cherry if she really wanted to. She really had a nice set. She elbowed me because I was making it a point to look. I waggled my eyebrows at her, but she laughed it off.

I kind of wanted my first time to be with someone special, someone I would die for, someone lucky enough to spend the rest of their life with my cute self.

It would happen. And if it didn't, I'd be the forty year old virgin who polished his totem pole everyday.

I had to look back down at the floor because she was still looking at me like she adored me.

"You're not a kid, are you?" she said quietly.

"Yeah, I am. I like my music loud and I steal one of your dad's beers every now and then. Don't tell him that. Mom and Leah just raised me right, I guess. Plus, Leah threatened me with bodily harm. 'Don't go falling in love with some girl just to break her heart. And keep your dick in your pants.' She's right to tell me that. And I listen. No harm in flirting though. And who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and get seduced some day. Lauren Mallory's kicking it up with the locals," I told her hopefully, on purpose. "She's pretty much bar trash, you know."

"Don't even," she warned. "I _will_ come to Forks and kick your ass."

I had no doubt she'd try, but I laughed it off.

It grew quiet for a moment. It was my window of opportunity.

"So, that's enough about me," I nudged her, hard enough that she wavered on her feet. "You have some explaining to do. What the hell is this? You get hitched?" I reached across her to tap the band on her finger. "And why the hell are you moving?"

She tensed at first and looked down, but then she relaxed and took the band off her finger. She sighed long and deep and held the ring in between her fingers and stared at it.

"I'm not married, but that's what everybody thinks when they see it. It's...just a ring." She handed it to me, and I had to resist the urge to bring it closer to my nose to smell it.

It was just a small and delicate silver band, but there was an inscription on the inside that read 'Property of P. Fischer'.

"Property of P. Fischer. That's cute." I looked at her and handed it back. She put it back on, and then turned around to open up the cupboard to take out the trash.

"His name is Peter Fischer. I met him six weeks ago at the club. He's, um…twenty-seven. He's an architect. Owns his own company. He designs houses and builds them, too. I'm...I'm in love with him. I'm selling my house, and I'm gonna move in with him. He lives just out of town, up in Sangre," she yelled out. She had walked out her garage door to dump the trash.

I walked over to the door. She had gone to the far end where the container was. "Wow! Charlie never said anything about you finding a man, let alone moving in with one. You...you gonna marry him?"

She was walking back, and as easily as it flowed out of her mouth, she still looked a little nervous. "Some day. And Charlie doesn't know because I haven't told him. But I'm going to have to. I'd appreciate it if you let me tell him, though. That means no phasing while you're here, Seth. Please? I'm sure Jake would like a report, but I'd just prefer to tell my dad the happy news first because I think it's safe to say my dad's gonna freak. I'll tell him next week when you go back. I can't trust you that long. You'd never make it."

She was right. I wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. And it explained why she was nervous. Charlie would freak, especially when he found out Bella would be selling her house.

She was standing in front of me in the doorway, looking up at me steadfast and headstrong. There was a little fear in her eyes. Just like Jake assumed I'd share my thoughts and my sight about her, she assumed I'd do it, too. And I decided on my own that I wasn't going to give him anything he wouldn't see later, and I wasn't going to let him even attempt to dictate or pass messages along with my visit.

With Bella, it was simple. I was assuming too much. She was in love with a human, not a Cullen. I was happy and curious as hell, but I was also worried because there had been a vampire in her house at some point.

Maybe they were checking up on her. Maybe they still cared. It was a faint scent, and it covered most of the house, but it was maybe weeks old. If she had been in harm's way, I would have thought that something would have happened already. Or maybe she was protecting them.

I didn't know whether to ask her about it or keep it quiet. It was her life, and she was asking for something as simple as pie. Plus, I had all week to find out if maybe she was holding something back. I wasn't about to ruin my relationship with her by getting Jake involved. She might have still cared from afar for everyone's well being, but she obviously wanted nothing to do with him or anyone else but her family.

I was still gonna wait until I told her about Charlie. That shit wasn't going to go over well at all. But I felt better. I felt like she was telling me the truth.

"Yeah. I mean, no problem. I wasn't planning on it anyway. None of Jake's business, right? I'm good with that. But, damn, Bella, you, uh...just met the guy. What's he like?"

She smiled. "Let's get your stuff out of the truck and get you settled." She turned around and I followed her back to the bed of the truck.

"He's, um...well, he's Peter. He's smart, funny, bright, and cocky as hell. The first time he asked me out I basically told him to fuck off, but he wouldn't give up. You'd like him." She smiled and looked away. We were at the back of her truck and I lowered the tailgate.

She spoke quietly. She seemed a little nervous. "I, um...fell in love with him pretty quick. He works hard, treats me very well, and he loves me. Plus, he's rich." She smiled up at me wistfully, and then looked away almost immediately. I doubted Bella really cared whether he had money or not, but it was good. It was a good thing. She deserved the world. She deserved good love.

"Are you scared that's it's moving too quick? You look like you are."

She shrugged. "No, not really. It's change. I'm a little nervous. But I also know I love him more than anything, and he loves me the same way. I'm more nervous about how dad's going to take it, that's all." She lifted my lighter suitcase out of the truck and I followed behind her with the other one.

"Well, don't worry about Charlie too much. He's always thought that if you fell in love again, you'd do it with the right person. It might throw him for a loop for a little while, so you'll just have to tell him you're doing what's right for you, ya know?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she said quietly.

"So, do I get to meet him?" I asked. She put the suitcase down on the floor and I put the one I was holding on top of the dresser.

"Um…well, I don't know." She stood by the dresser and put her hands on her hips, looking straight ahead. She was thinking.

"He's in Oklahoma City for the next few days, overseeing a development. His business keeps him busy a lot. He's supposed to come back on Tuesday, so we'll just have to see."

She said no more. She walked over to the edge of the door and turned the ceiling fan on.

"Oh, well that sucks. I'd like to meet him."

She looked up at me and smiled. "He'd like to meet you, too, Seth. I've told him all about you…well, almost everything." She snorted. "He thinks you'll like Boulder. In fact...hold on." She walked out of the room in a rush and I followed.

Bella walked back into the kitchen and started to dig around in her bag until she found a card. A business card.

She handed it to me. "That's the name of a guy who's done some work for him. You're going to find a job, right? Charlie said you planned on getting a job right away."

"Yeah, yeah. I gotta eat. I've got a little money saved up, plus what mom and your dad are gonna make me take. But it won't be enough to make it through four years of college."

I definitely didn't have enough money to probably even make it six months without a job. My tuition was paid for by both the scholarship and a grant. I had a savings account with my portion of my father's life insurance policy. The plan was for me to get an apartment off campus. There was no way I'd ever make it in a fraternity house or a dorm, and I definitely needed my space.

Bella frowned at something she saw on my face. "Well, I told Peter you're a hard worker, and he said that if you need a job to call this guy. I mean, it's construction, and you'll have to start out doing shit jobs, but he says the pay will be good and he'll put in a good word for you. They'll work around your school schedule." She shrugged.

I looked at the card. It read 'Osterhoudt Housing Development', which was located in Boulder. There was a name and number on the card, along with what they specialized in - roofing, cement, and decking. It was definitely worth a try.

"Wow. Thanks! You know, Jared's into roofing now. Small jobs, really. I helped him with the Crowley house last summer. He'd do that for me? He doesn't even know me."

She gave me a look. "Yeah, he would do that for you. He knows _me_. Charlie tells me how much you do around the house. He told me how hard you worked while still keeping your grade point up. College is a bitch. Be prepared," she said seriously.

We spent the next half hour on her couch, talking about going to the festival, and then down to the Mexico border. I was really looking forward to seeing it all, especially White Sands and Juarez. She also told me a little about Debbie and mentioned that it was in my best interests to not stare at her tits, like I had been staring at hers.

At any rate, I was glad she was doing so well. It thrilled me that she was so excited for our trip, too. And I had more than enough questions about this Peter dude she was gonna probably marry. Frankly, I was too damn shocked that she was in love in the first place, let alone moving in with him. She told me he was the best and that he was kind, gentle, and a retard. I was just glad he was human.

I probably should have bothered with asking if he was, but I, Seth Clearwater, am a fucking idiot.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

It was about 2:15 in the afternoon when Seth started yawning after every sentence. He was tired, and he looked it. He had been up since two in the morning, and Charlie had driven him to Sea-Tac for his flight at 5:30AM. He said he slept on the way there, but he couldn't fall back to sleep on the plane.

I told him to go take a nap. Debbie was supposed to be coming over at about 4:00 so we could drive down to the movie ranch to catch the band that Seth wanted to see at 5:00. It wouldn't be much of a nap, but it would help him catch his second wind. We weren't planning on staying out too late because we would all need a good night's rest. We had a long drive ahead of us the next day, and we were going to leave at about seven in the morning.

I took a walk down my block, and then down to the other. It was hotter than hell, but I needed to get out. I needed to call Peter. I needed to vent.

I had lied. I had pointblank lied my fucking ass off. And the thing that was strange and so fucking disturbing was that I thought I had done a good job at it. It wasn't as if I hadn't rehearsed or thought of an answer to every possible question. I guess I just never thought I'd be able to pull it off.

I was far from being proud. And I had to take a few deep breaths and wipe away the tears just to punch speed dial. I gave myself three blocks.

"Uh, oh. This can't be good. It ain't even been three hours yet," he said, not offering a hello.

I sobbed into the phone. "You won't believe everything I've heard."

A pause. "Yeah, I would. You're talking to a fucking vampire, baby. What's wrong?" he asked gently.

"Everything. Nothing. Everything. I lied. I lied to him. And what's so fucking bad is I think he believed me. I didn't know it was gonna be this hard. I can't stand it, Peter. And I think he smelled Garrett. I'm pretty sure he did."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because he looked like he could smell a goddamn corpse, or something. He...seemed to pause a little while I showed him the house. I don't know…I just know he knows there's been a vampire in my house. But he didn't ask me about it. He didn't say anything. He's changed so much, Peter. And for a second, I almost thought he was Jake when he stepped off the plane," I shuddered out.

I went ahead and filled him in on everything that Seth told me, everything that was said and talked about. I knew Seth was holding something back. In fact, I knew he was holding a lot back. While my fucking acting might have been stellar, his was far from it. Twice I wanted to tell him to just spit it the fuck out, and on more than one occasion I was ready to tell him the truth.

Just like I was hiding something from him, he was hiding something from me.

If I could barely stand lying to Seth, I was never going to be able to lie to my dad. Things were more complicated, and I should have expected it. But one thing was for sure - I liked him, and I cared so much that I didn't want to hurt him in any way. And I loved him enough to think of him as my brother. But he could never be.

"You did the right thing," Peter told me gently.

"You'd say that even if I had gone ahead and told him," I said.

Peter chuckled quietly. "Yeah, I would. There's no right and wrong decision in this, Bella. Yeah, lying's no good, but you're doing what you think is best for you…and for me. I can't tell you what to do, baby, but I can tell you that you're probably gonna have to talk to your dad sooner than you expected, especially if you decide to tell Seth the truth. And...it's not just that, Bella. If Jake's hell bent and on the hunt, he might just come down here and bring the pack. You know what that means, don't you?"

After everything Seth told me about Jake 'hunting' vampires, I knew exactly what that meant.

"We'll have to leave. I don't want to. This is my home. This is _our_ home. God, Peter, I think I hate him. I think I hate Jake enough to want to kill him. Who knows who those boys killed?! And the thing that gets me the most is that they're looking for it. I can't tell Seth. I can't tell him. I won't." I told him adamantly.

He was silent for a moment. "You don't want to kill Jake any more than I do. He's doing what he thinks is best for his people. For his family. But if the fucker comes down here and tries to get in my way, I'll gut him. We're not going anywhere."

The possibility of Jake and Peter trying to kill each other sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't want to think about it. I didn't even want to imagine it because there could be no winners in that scenario.

Peter was my family. He was the only thing I couldn't live without, and it broke me to think that I could give up my dad - the man who had made me and helped raise me, who trusted me and loved me my entire life, no matter what I had done. And this is why I wanted to keep him and why I wanted to tell him because I still believed he'd love me no matter what.

"And Seth?" I choked out. I needed him to tell me what he thought was right.

Peter was quiet on the other end for a moment. "Don't tell him. You'll hurt him, and he might just hate you for it. Maybe you were wrong, Bella. It doesn't make sense for him not to say anything if he did smell Garrett. But we're gonna have to talk about your dad some more," he said thickly. "If you want to tell him, we might just have to put off Kansas to just go see him so we can get it over with. It's hurting you, and it's probably gonna hurt him. We can have him meet us in Port Angeles at the airport. You wanna do that?"

He was right. There was no way we could put it off any longer. It was better to get it all over with and do what we needed to do. What _I_ needed to do.

"You mean next Friday?" I asked. My heart was palpitating in ways it never had before at the prospect. I only hoped my dad's could stay strong.

He paused. "Yeah. But maybe Saturday instead? You and I need to talk first. Are you ready, Bella?"

I picked up on some fear in his voice. I was afraid too. I had to be just a little afraid at what he was asking me to be ready for. Telling my dad? Marriage? Everlasting life?

I knew he meant it all.

"I'm as ready as I'm ever gonna get. I couldn't love you more than I love you right now. I've tried to imagine my life without you in it and I can't do it, and I wouldn't want to change a single moment. It's like everything I ever went through doesn't matter anymore, and it was all for this. It was all for fate. It was all for you, Peter Fischer…Peter Whitlock…Peter Osterhoudt…whatever fucking name you're gonna have in the next twenty years," I muttered.

It sounded as if he wasn't breathing or he had hung up, one or the other.

"You're ready," he said thickly.

"I'm ready," I said with as much conviction as I could muster because I _was_ ready, but I was also afraid.

There was a pause, and then he cleared his throat. "You know, I'm thinking Swan. Peter Swan. I always wanted to be named after a bird. I think Charlotte would like that. Only thing is, I'll have to marry one."

I was gushing at the thought that he'd be wonderful enough to take my name to add to his collection.

"Are you asking?" I asked.

"Hell, no! Christ, Bella, give me some credit. I'm not gonna propose to you over the _phone_. Maybe at the top of the Rattler, or maybe up in Sandia, or maybe in the back seat of my truck, but not over the phone."

I covered the phone so I could laugh.

He had taken the phone away from his ear, but I could still hear him. "See why I love her? She's stupid enough to think it's romantic of me to propose to her over the goddamn phone."

It was obvious he was talking to Garrett.

I pushed end.

My phone rang, and I answered it on the first ring. "How about at 50,000 feet under the big dipper? Then you can suck _my_ big dipper while I steer, and…"

I pushed end again. It didn't ring right away, but it did all the same. I was ready to go back to the house, so I turned around and strolled easy. The heat and the humidity was unbearable, and a couple of kids who were running through a sprinkler two houses down from where I stood on the sidewalk looked liked they were enjoying a little slice of heaven.

I answered on the third ring.

"Are you okay?" he asked gently.

I knew he was being serious again, just as he had been serious about everything else while trying to distract me from all the issues and the things that bothered me, like Seth, Jake, Charlie, and losing my life by his bite.

While I wanted to become immortal and spend forever with Peter, I was still afraid of the pain. And I was afraid of not being myself. He said I'd be a fool if I wasn't.

I loved him even more so because he just knew how to push the right buttons. He knew how to calm me down, and in a way, he helped me to not think so much.

But I swore one day I was gonna kick his ass.

"I'm okay. Still not gonna blow you at 50,000 feet though," I told him.

"I know." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Look, Garrett and I are gonna go ahead and stay in New Mexico, just to be on the safe side in case something happens," he said softly.

"No, you two need to feed. It'll be fine. Debbie will be over and we'll all have to act normal. Go ahead and go." It was true - Debbie was supposed to not know about vampires or werewolves. There would be no talk about packs or vampires.

"We're gonna hunt. We're gonna go to...later," he said.

"Where? You cut out."

"Yeah, someone's beeping in. We're…to Gallup."

"Texas?" I asked.

"New Mexico. Go home…go take a cool bath and try to relax a little. Call me if you need to talk," he said quietly.

"Alright. Be careful."

"You, too. I love you."

"I love you."

He hung up.

I was walking back to the house when my phone rang. It wasn't Peter's ring, and the caller ID said unknown number. I answered.

"Hello?"

There was nothing. The call ended almost immediately. I didn't think anything of it. The car warranty expiration people were still wreaking havoc with car owners everywhere.

I peeked in on Seth when I got home. He had left the bedroom door partially open, and he was lying on his back with his shirt off. I called Charlie real quick while I turned the air conditioner up to tell him that Seth had arrived safe and sound, but no one answered. I left a message.

I went to my room to take a cool bath and to try and relax. I chose another pair of destroyed denim shorts and a black spaghetti strap top with a shelf bra to wear tonight. The movie ranch wasn't really big, but depending on how busy it was, It was possible we would have to park a half mile away. I picked out a pair of tennis shoes, just so my feet wouldn't hurt, and I laid them on the bed.

I grabbed my necklace - the one Peter had bought for me weeks before - out of my jewelry box. A drunk girl at the bar had gushed over it and inadvertently grabbed it a little too hard. The clasp had broken, but I had it repaired. I just didn't wear it to work anymore.

I was getting the tub ready when I heard my cell phone ring from the dresser outside the bathroom. I walked out to answer it, and it was another unknown call.

Just like before, there was no one there.

I called Peter. He picked up on the first ring.

"I think you miss me."

"I do, but that's not why I called. I keep getting unknown number calls, but nobody's there," I told him.

"I know, so do I. Garrett too, and the rest of the goddamn world. This warranty shit's getting out of hand."

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to make sure it wasn't you."

"It's not me, it's just the robots. If I find the fucker responsible, I'll slaughter 'em for ya." I heard Garrett this time chuckle in the background.

I laughed. "Nice. Okay. Well, that's all I wanted. I'm gonna go. I'm gonna take a bath."

He dropped his voice and I heard a door close. "Oh. Well, you don't have to go. Just slip on down in that water…"

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***P*E*T*E*R***

_**7:15PM**_

"Quit pacing. You're driving me nuts."

"Shut up. I'm thirsty," Garrett grumbled out.

"Don't be getting blood on my shirt."

Garrett was just a hair shy of being a raging lunatic, and he was a messy drinker as it was.

Garrett had only taken a week's worth of clothes to Albuquerque. We had a load drying in the hotel laundry room, which I had to wash because he couldn't figure out how to use the washer. He was wearing one of my black T-shirts and a pair of jeans that could probably be declared hazardous waste a week from now if he were human and able to fart. While it was true that he didn't have to worry about hairy ball sweat or skid marks, that shit was just gross.

To think, I used to be that way myself.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled again, sighing for what was the six hundred and twenty-third time.

"Jesus H. Christ." I groaned, putting my head back against the headboard and closing my eyes. I was sitting on a bed in a posh room at the Holiday Inn on the northeast side of Albuquerque. I had been drafting up a perfect Spanish Villa-style home for Bella to consider with everything she and I both wanted for the last seven hours.

This one would have arched doorways and a heavily-windowed foyer and hallway that would nearly wrap around the entire house. It was kind of a bitch to do since I had never drawn up a villa before.

Garrett was pacing in front of a sliding glass door, which led to a small balcony facing the north. We were on the third floor, waiting for sundown so we could take off and go hunt. The sun wasn't going to set until after 8:30pm.

I was pretty goddamn content, just zoning out while I waited for Bella to call. And the bed would have been quite fucking comfortable to be in had she been in it too.

Garrett's internal dialogue and his 'woe is me' attitude were making me consider going home just so I could smell her. Instead, we were about to embark on yet another conversation about Debbie. Maybe this time, however, he'd go all cave man and decide that he'd show her his balls after all.

'Me, Garrett. You, Deb. Me have balls that fit in your little hand. You big tits. Good for squeezing face between. Make fish lips. Me love you. Pussy like sap from maple tree.'

Or some shit like that...

"What's so fucking funny?" he asked, growling. I hadn't realized I'd been laughing at loud.

I lied.

"You. You're pacing a goddamn hole into the carpet." And he really was - he'd had a week to do it. "Garrett, just call her. Tell her you love her," I mumbled out for what was the fifth time.

And I waited for nothing less than the same answer he'd already given me. But I couldn't help but feel compassion for him and sympathize just a little bit. I opened my eyes.

He was just as distraught. He kept pacing and shaking his head.

"She shouldn't want this. She shouldn't love me. I'm not human. I'm a killer, for Christ's sake. I've killed women who look like her, slaughtered them to the point they were unrecognizable. I've killed children before, too. I steal, I curse God sometimes for making me immortal, and I'm bitter as hell. Plus, I've peeked every goddamn time she's bent over. I've loved women of our kind for a day and never given any of them a second thought the day after. She shouldn't _want_ me," he ended.

He sat on the edge of the bed and started to twist his fingers. If he only realized how human he had become…how human he _was_.

I decided to change tactics a little.

"Yeah, you have, to all of the above. So fucking what? What fucking pedestal are you putting her on? Debbie's no saint. She's a woman with morals and values who's walked on the wild side, too - just in different aspects, is all. You know who you're reminding me of?"

He glared over at me but said nothing.

"Edward Cullen. He didn't think he was worth a shit either. You know what happened to him? He let Bella go, thinking it was the right thing to do. And she'll never be his again. We're just as human as them, Garrett. We love, we hurt, we bleed, and we _do_ make mistakes. Every day you wait and distance yourself, you lose her a little. Don't let her think you don't want her. Don't let her think you don't need her. That's just as bad as killing her outright, and I bet she's probably wished you would have. You're treating her like shit, like she doesn't matter."

Garrett was giving me a withering look. "I'm giving her space, giving her time to think about it."

"Bullshit. She doesn't want or need space right now, you idiot. She wants _you_. She's had weeks to think about it. You're avoiding her because you're a chicken shit. How many fucking times we gotta go through this?"

He didn't say anything, and he was stoic.

"Or is this all just a fucking game? A distraction you're now bored with? Maybe you are just like all the other men who have broken her heart. You don't give a shit about anybody but yourself."

That did it.

And it was pretty goddamn amazing because I didn't even see it coming. The bastard had the eyes of a snake and he struck like one.

"Take my head off and I'll tell Bella and Debbie," I threatened, trying to laugh.

Or she'd tell me I had it coming. She loved Garrett. They both did.

All the same, the grip he had on my throat was a little irritating, and I removed his hand easily and gave him my left hook. I didn't hit him hard. If there was a chance he'd see Deb after the weekend, I wanted him to look pretty. He landed on the floor at the end of the bed, startling the woman in the room below us.

I settled back against the headboard while he sat himself up.

"Fuck you, Peter. She's not a distraction. She's the woman I'll love for the rest of my unnatural life."

"Then grow some balls and tell her, for Christ's sake. She's not gonna say no, and if she does, then tell her it's not an option and just bite her ass."

He picked himself up off the floor and reseated himself on the edge of the bed. "I can't do that. She'll wake up and remove them as her first order of business," he grumbled.

"Or she might lick 'em. Call her. Tell her you need to talk to her. Tell her you want her. Let her enjoy the rest of the weekend knowing she's got you to look forward to when she comes back. She doesn't need to be moping around Seth. She might screw something up."

That much was true. Debbie was the key to helping keep Seth in the dark and to keeping the peace. She was human and not supposed to be aware of vampires or wolves. She was Bella's best friend, and now one of mine. Plus, I felt better knowing she was there for Bella, who was stressed enough as it was.

But so was Debbie. I was beginning to think this was all a mistake.

But Seth's visit was going be good for all of them. It sounded like Seth needed a break from his side of the world, even if he was technically the bad guy. All three of them needed to remember what normalcy was like, without talk or thought of the mythological, because at least one of them wasn't going to be normal for very much longer. Or maybe both of them.

I wasn't looking forward to newborn shit at all.

How do you tell your future wife that Linda Blair in the Exorcist had the shit easy? 'Possessed' wasn't a strong enough word. 'Consumed by insanity and thirst like nothing you've ever experienced' wasn't a strong enough description. 'Fucked up' just seemed to work.

It wouldn't be that she wouldn't find herself eventually, but even then, she was going to be different, and it scared Bella enough that it scared _me_.

And I had never felt so helpless in all my long life at the prospect that I'd lose that fear once she found out the truth - the truth I was going to give her before we went to see her dad. Because she was ready, and so was I. It was going to hurt like nothing had ever hurt her before, but she had more or less figured out for herself the blatant truth of the matter. She was my fate, just like I was hers, and everything happened for a reason.

I was able to embrace it now. I was able to embrace the change in the future I had once known and move forward without the fear that outside forces were at work in an effort to fuck it up, but not without the fear that those very forces I used to embrace, and which I knew I'd pass on to her, would end it all. It was still a possibility, but she'd have to know that. She would have to know that I'd spent the last six weeks with uncertainty, not knowing how we would grow or how we would evolve to what we were at that moment..

It wasn't just deep, irrational, and unconventional love. It was a love that was shared, a love that made two halves a whole. And I knew that she knew that she was still waiting for a _truth_, waiting for something that might shatter it all. And she knew that I knew that she had something to share too, something that would take the _truth_ and highlight it in big, bright red letters, clear and easy to see.

'Behold! God and all his Wonders! See how he fucks with your mind! Now go covet thy husband and smoke one for me.'

Those outside forces, or Charlotte, hadn't made a re-appearance, or at least she hadn't made it known that they had. I wondered if it was because it was meant to be this way instead. I wondered if she knew that I had to work for it in order to achieve all that I wanted and more, just so I could experience it and love like I had never loved before.

And I did just that. In six short weeks I had found peace - not from the lie, but from the very things I had been bound to the last twenty-one years. It was a gift I both loved _and_ hated.

Everything was perfect, aside from Seth's visit and the ever-fucking-looming bearing of my soul and the truth. I had a girl who loved me just as much as I loved her. We had good friends. I had a really clean house. Plus, I got a blow job at least once every two weeks, and bonuses when I was extra sweet. Frankly, I couldn't fucking wait for the day when she wouldn't have to come up for air.

The quirks that Bella had developed as a means to rid herself of thoughts of her past were now the fucking OCD of the present. No longer did she dwell on thoughts of Edward and Jacob and how they had failed her. Now her thoughts consisted of burning in the worst fucking way possible and hunting and killing someone she might have once known. She would do all this _thinking_ while cleaning the grout on the goddamn floor beneath my easel at home, or while attempting to touch shit she needed to keep her fucking hands off of while having a meltdown.

There would be no escape from the pain. There would be nothing I could do to stop it. The option of hunting animals was always an open-ended one, but she didn't want me to have to change for her. And the truth was I honestly thought she was more concerned about killing someone she might know.

She slipped me a piece of paper one morning when she had come home from work. It was the name of somebody she had been watching in the club. He was selling X and coke back by the bathrooms, and had roughed up his girlfriend. She had written his name on the paper, told me what he was doing, and then walked away to go heat up her dinner.

Killing someone she knew was a possibility - a real, remote one - especially if we lived in the area. Mandy was now tripping on acid full time, and the guy who used to do Bella's hair had been diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. But there were things I was planning that would inevitably keep her from making a remote possibility come to life, and there were things she should experience firsthand, no matter how ugly the thought of such things would be to her now.

So it was best to just not tell her. Because my ideas would not be hers. And she wouldn't fucking care anyway once I bit her. But I had every intention of building her a grand house somewhere in the Rockies, where she could walk around naked for the next fucking century. Because that was a goddamn requirement…when she was ready and had settled down enough, of course.

And only if she was right. I was her fate and she was mine, but I might have fucked with it a little too much.

I didn't believe that, but I still lived with the fear.

Garrett's phone rang. He nearly obliterated it, taking the case and the phone off the belt he had it attached to.

"For the love of all that is holy!" he spat out as he looked at the caller ID.

That was about the eighth time that day he had spat out the same thing. The calls were getting ridiculous, especially for Garrett because nobody ever called him other than me, Bella, or Debbie - or the robots that had seemed to have lost their fucking voice, which was precisely why he was upset because Debbie wasn't calling him.

He answered it. "Hello!" He waited, and then he pushed '1'.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He ignored me, but he looked like he was about to initiate a throw down. I could hear a tune playing through his phone. He was on hold.

The tune, though, clicked off. "Hi, this is Rach…"

"Yes! Hello!" he growled. "Where do you live?!"

I lost it. The woman on the other side of that line had no idea what Garrett had even said because he'd said it too quickly. His teeth dripped with venom, and I just couldn't take it anymore.

"You think it's so fucking funny, don't you?" he said, trying to pierce my laughter with a glare while ending the call. "That's the eighth goddamn call today! I wish you had never bought me this fucking thing!"

"No, Garrett, it's not funny. But _you_ are. You think you've got something to bitch about? I've had fifteen calls! She's not gonna call you. You're gonna have to call her. Quit being a pussy and just do it already. It's getting fucking old."

He started breathing hard through his nose. He was on the verge of a panic attack, but he hit speed dial and called her, lifting the phone up to his ear. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be more understanding after all I've done for you. You could be a little more appreciative. Call me a pussy again and I'm going to take your fucking head off."

Debbie's phone went to voice mail right away. They were at the festival, and chances were she couldn't hear it anyways, so she had probably decided to turn it off.

"Leave her a message, Garrett."

He took one last breath in and then held it while he pressed '1'.

"Deborah? It's Garrett. I apologize for not calling you earlier, but I'd very much like to speak with you about...a few things. I would appreciate it so very much if you would call me back. And, just so you know, I'm in love with you. And I've looked down your shirt 364 times. And I've peeked in your windows. Goodbye," he ended softly.

Well, at least he was telling her the truth. But she'd be lucky if she understood any of that. I had no doubt the fucker had just laid the ground for his future.

He stared ahead, directly through the balcony window, and he looked like he was in shock. Garrett had had his fair share of women, but they'd all been vampires. _Nomads_. This was completely new for him because this was love, not an interlude with a free spirit who welcomed company but embraced solitude. He could never go back to that again. He had fallen in love with her the moment he saw her.

Fate and all that shit. Life was grand, and I was one happy and content man. I even wanted a fucking puppy.

"That was perfect, but next time…cry, or something - she'll eat that shit up. And I do appreciate you, Garrett, and everything you've done for Bella and me. And I'll say thank you again for Pauline. You don't know how much that means to me."

He smiled wryly while looking out the window. "That's only about the third time you've said it, Peter. You are welcome. But Bella did most of the work. She'd have done it by herself if I had told her no."

"I know."

And she would have, just like she would have buried Charlotte had she not been dust in the wind.

Garrett leaned back on his elbows. He still held his phone in his hand, and he looked at me.

"Pauline's death hurt you the most, didn't it?" he asked.

"No, they all fucking hurt. But hers was the most traumatic, I guess. She would hardly talk to anyone after my parents and brothers were killed, and they moved us to Minnesota. She was depressed most of the time, and she wouldn't eat. I remember something she said once, though - something I remembered today. She said, 'Peter, did you know that a twister is just a gateway to Heaven? I wonder if momma and poppa saw it before they died.'"

Garrett smiled softly.

I shrugged my shoulders at him. "I didn't know what to say to her. Frankly, I just remember being shocked that she'd even talked about it at all, let alone asked a question. But then she said, 'I would have liked to have seen that'."

There was no way I was gonna go all pansy on Garrett, so I said nothing more. And it was strange and kind of upsetting, anyways, because I hadn't remembered that until that morning, when Bella had given me my present and I read through Rasmussen's recounting.

As difficult as they were, I loved Bella even more for giving me those memories back.

Garrett smiled mischievously. "Have you ever stood in front of a twister? I have."

"Hell, no. Fucking things are scary," I told him.

Garrett chuckled. "It's awe-inspiring that something so destructive can be so beautiful. I suppose one would think they could see Heaven, if they're standing in the middle of the vortex. You can see all the way up into the sky. You should try it sometime."

Dumbass was talking to someone who had already been through one under the worst of circumstances, and he wanted me to try it.

"No, thanks. I don't have a death wish."

Garrett rolled his eyes. "You're immortal."

"And you're fucking crazy. It'd be my luck I'd get thrown across whatever fucking county it was in, while my dick landed in another. No, thanks. Hey, why don't you jump…"

Garrett's phone rang, startling him. It was just his basic ring, and he looked at the caller ID.

"Jesus H. Christ." He answered it. The shit really was getting old. "Hello? ...Hello?" He gave it a good three seconds before he pushed 'End'. His eyebrows furrowed.

"What? It's about eight. They should stop soon," I told him. I reached for my sketchbook to draw some more.

"Well, it's strange. That one said 'unknown', just like the rest of them did before I received the last one. This morning's, though..." he said, going through his call list. He stood up and grabbed my phone off the little nightstand beside me and went through my call list.

"How many times have you heard robo-girl's voice?" he asked.

I thought it over. "Three."

His eyes shot to mine. "You've had twelve calls with no one there?"

His words didn't register for a moment. My mind was on other things, things that mattered the most - the future, the present, him and Deb, and Bella and me. The only thing that had worried me at that time was Seth's visit, so I had been thinking about that the most. Nothing else had mattered.

In a way, his question was almost a slap in the face or a punch in the gut, telling me to 'Wake up! Something's wrong! You're in trouble!'

Unknown numbers. No voices.

Maybe someone _not_ trying to sell car warranties.

My phone rang in his hand. It was a basic ring, for unknown numbers.

I shot forward and grabbed it out of his hand. "Hello?"

Nothing. The call ended immediately.

I looked at Garrett, and his face probably looked like mine. There was one thought that immediately popped in my head. My _only_ thought.

'_I do, but that's not why I called. I keep getting unknown number calls, but nobody's there.'_

"What the hell is going on?" Garrett asked. His face seemed to be falling with every tick of the internal clock.

The phone rang again.

This time it played its happy tune. The Exorcist theme.

Bella.

Garrett sighed and got up to walk over to the sliding door, looking at his phone again.

We were facing north. The sun was making its descent across the entire Santa Fe range and catching reflections in the distance of the Cerrillos Hills. Where Bella was at.

Roughly 35 miles away.

There are things that scar and twist you to the point where everyone - and everything - loses control. And sometimes it's a wonder if you ever get it back.

It happened to me once, and I got it back, all because of a gift I was given. A gift that was about to be ripped and torn away from me. Without it, I would have been dead a long time ago. At least, that was what I thought back then.

When everything is ripped away again by the very evil that took it the first time, there is no reason to live. There wasn't a shred of doubt in my mind that I wouldn't survive without her.

So when I answered that call and heard her controlled words, which held such deep, underlying fear that it reverberated through her voice, I knew that the chances were my life was over.

"Hey, honey. What's up?"

"_Peter, we're in trouble."_ Control and fear.

There are no words that could accurately explain every heart wrenching moment I had ever experienced in all of my one hundred years all rolled into one feeling.

Garrett was in front of me, lightning quick.

"What's wrong?!"

"_We're at the festival. We're on our way out. There are vampires here, Peter. Five of them."_

Fear. Control. Love. Fight. It was all in her voice. She had them all, and I only lost one.

I only thought that twenty-one years ago my life had hit bottom when I literally hit the bottom of that hole. But now I was teetering on the edge, getting ready to fall back in.

There would be no visions. There would be no Bella trying to scoot on her legs back and forth across the floor, trying to learn how to crawl with the biggest 'I can do it' smile on her face. There would only be death. Maybe not dead in body, but there would be nothing left of my mind. It was like before, yet not the same at all. This time, I would climb out of that hole and find a way. A way to die.

You could mark the loss of my sanity with the sound of the mournful song of the tinkling glass still falling behind me.

But there _was_ a reason to fight, a reason to survive. _She_ wanted to fight. _She_ wanted to survive, so badly that she was going to fight like hell with everything she had. And I knew that the reason was me.

I was already scarred and twisted, and there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for her. I had fear, I had fight, and I had love. I would only find control again with her in my arms. If she could fight fate, then so could I. And there would be no evil I wouldn't commit to keep her.

But I could go beyond it, and I _had_ once for Bella.

Fight. Fear. Love. They were the only three things I needed, and they were the only three that Garrett needed too.

I was in the sun yet consumed by darkness. The hole was trying to swallow me up. The ground seemed to fall away under my feet, and I was a ghost, streaking through the desert. I could feel the strings pulling me to her, keeping me up, keeping me as light as a feather.

Garrett would not fall behind. Maybe he could feel them too.

There is evil in all of us. It just depends on how we use it, and how we let it consume us. I never really could let it have all of me, but it was getting the best parts this time around.

I kept the fear for myself, but I didn't embrace it. I embraced the man. I embraced the monster.

He was one ugly son of a bitch.


	20. Chap 19 The Ghost and the Darkness II

Chapter 19. The Ghost and the Darkness Part II

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***B*E*L*L*A***

_**7:30PM**_

"You know, we could always stop at a grocery store down in Las Cruces tomorrow! They sell goat heads in the freezer section! You can take one home to your mother!" Debbie said to Seth. She was yelling because the music outside at the festival was blaring.

While the two of them had walked off to supposedly look at some vendors that were set up over by the church set, I was at the train depot, buying a matching set of turquoise key chains mined right out of the Cerrillos Hills for Peter and I. I was having them engraved with our first initials and waiting for the engraver to finish.

The two were hitting it off pretty well, and any fear I had had about Debbie possibly blowing it because of her depressive state was quickly put to rest. After introductions were made, and after Seth had nonchalantly checked out her tits and legs - she was decked out in a purple tank top and a black pair of low-rise shorts - they just started talking about the festival, Las Cruces, Seth's thoughts on Santa Fe, anything. She didn't mention Garrett, and neither did I.

Most of the car ride down had been filled with talk about the mythological; although it had been about El Chupacabra. Seth had an obsession with the goat-eater; and Debbie, who was now into _anything_ mythological, had talked about this show she had seen on Animal Planet.

There had only been one moment where I was on the edge of just saying 'fuck it' and considered throwing her out of the truck.

"_I think it's a cat. Some kind of big, hairless cat," _Seth had said.

"_I think it's a wolf. A mutated wolf or dog. Probably the size of a horse," _Debbie had countered.

Seth had laughed it off, but Deb earned a glare through the rear view mirror. She had just shrugged and laughed with Seth.

It was obvious that Debbie liked Seth right away, and he liked her - in a platonic way, of course. Seth was supplying the distraction she obviously needed. Seth liked to talk, and he, of course, was talking about everything other than Garrett.

We had arrived at the festival just before five, before it had started to get crowded. The festival was at Eaves Movie Ranch, which was an old nineteenth-century Western town built for a movie set. Several movies had been filmed there.

The Thirsty Ear Festival itself was a weekend-long event that catered to grass roots music lovers. There were three different stages set up throughout the town with bands playing folk, blues, cajun, rock, bluegrass, and country. It was almost like going to the fair because there were great concession stands and vendors selling arts and crafts.

Seth was wearing a new, black T-shirt with the band he wanted to see on it. _Indigenous_ was the name, and they were a good band. We had watched them while we stood next to the stage, and Seth had the lead singer's autograph on his new shirt…and a barbecue sauce stain to go with it.

It was hot, and even Seth was suffering a little bit in the heat. We had taken several runs over to the misters they had set up by the main entrance. We had about an hour before sunset.

Seth came walking in through the old swinging doors with Debbie, a sheen of sweat on his brow and a cup of draft in his hand. He had tied the top and sides of his hair back, just like Debbie and I had pulled ours into ponytails.

"What's my mom gonna do with a goat head?" he asked her. Debbie was jostling her own beer, and she was animated as they walked toward me at the counter.

"You can boil it and use the meat for stew! I'll buy one for you!"

He was about to say something to her when I hit him on the chest.

He looked down at me and grinned. "Hey!"

"Hey! What's that?" I asked, pointing to his cup.

"It's a beer! You want a drink?" he asked.

"Sure!"

He handed it over, and I tossed it in the trash can by the window.

I glared at him. "No drinking, Seth! I'll kick your ass!"

"Aww, Bella! That was four bucks!"

I had a specific reason for not wanting Seth anywhere near alcohol, and the fact was he wasn't twenty-one.

"Did you buy it for him?" I asked Debbie. Whichever band was on Stage Two ended their set, and it was quiet again for the exception of the crowd.

"Yeah, I did. Let the kid live a little, Bell. It's just one beer. He can pass for twenty-seven," she said with a little attitude while taking a drink of her beer.

"Yeah, let the 'kid' live a little," Seth grumbled out, glowering at me, but Deb had earned my attention.

"Oh, that's easy for you to say. You don't have his mom and my dad to answer to if he gets busted. There are too many cops around, and I doubt Charlie can pull any strings down here. Sorry, Seth." He could be mad all he wanted, but he wasn't drinking.

"You'll let him have a couple in Mexico, won't you? Don't be such a spoil sport, Bell," Deb said, her look just a tad withering.

I looked up at Seth. "Yeah, you can drink in Mexico, but only if you keep your pants on and don't get drunk. You still gotta cross back over the border."

"Gee, Bella, that's great. Thanks," he said, in smart ass kind of way.

He kept talking as I turned back towards the engraver. My key chains were ready. I felt a breeze come in from the door on my neck. It was warm, but it was air.

"But you know I can take my pants off even when I'm sober. If you wanna see, all you..."

Seth's words trailed off as the engraver was giving me my bill and key chains. I hadn't really listened to everything he said because the engraver was making sure I liked the lettering.

$42.50 later, I looked back at Deb and Seth. Seth was looking out the door. Debbie took the key chains out of my hand to look at them.

"They're nice, Bell." She handed them back to me as I put my wallet back in my little backpack.

"Thanks. So what do we do now?" I looked back up at Deb, and I noticed Seth was still looking out the door…intently.

"Seth?"

He turned to me. His face was straight. "What?"

"What do you want to do now?" I asked him. Something was strange. All of sudden his face seemed a little tense, but he relaxed immediately. I just put it off as him being aggravated over the beer.

He looked at Deb and then back at me. "Well, can we watch a little bit of the next band? It's that hot chick we saw earlier who was signing stuff with Mato. I wanna see if she can sing."

"Yeah, we can do that. I gotta pee, though," I told him.

"Yeah, so do I," Deb said.

"Why don't you two go use the restroom. I'll meet you in front of the dance hall. I'm gonna go back over to the church and get some more chicken. It smells like honey barbecue." Seth smiled. We were walking out the swinging doors and into the heat of the sun.

Seth had eaten two full plates of barbecued ribs, a foot long corn dog, a basket of chili-cheese fries, part of Deb's gyro, and a pickle on a stick. Plus, he had tackled half a bag of cotton candy that I had bought, and he had had two bites off my guinea grinder. And then there was four thirty two ounce Cokes, and a shot of wheat grass off someone giving out free samples, which nearly made him puke everything else up.

I laughed. "Yeah, okay. They'll probably start up in about twenty minutes, so hurry up."

The train depot was just down from the church set, and the line was long for the barbecue pit. There were more and more people filtering in.

"Okay, I'll meet you there." Seth walked down the plank deck towards the barbecue pit. There were port-a-potties sitting at the end of the train depot, and Deb and I headed towards them.

Once our bathroom needs were taken care of, Debbie and I crossed over to Main Street. There was a slushie vendor on the corner, and I headed towards it. It was the first chance Deb and I really had time to do any talking.

"I want a slushie. You know, I can't believe you bought him a beer. What were you thinking?" I asked.

"Oh, chill, Bell. After all you told me about him, the kid needs to have some fun. He's a good kid. Kind of hard to believe he changes into a dog," she said.

"Yeah, which is why I don't want him getting drunk, even in Mexico. I was at a bonfire one night during my last summer in Forks, down on First Beach, and the boys were drinking a little. Quil just up and popped after Paul threw a marshmallow at him. So don't encourage him. And he's a wolf, not a dog."

I got in line, and she stood beside me, taking a long swig of her beer.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that, you know? Seeing him 'phase'…"

I looked at her like she was crazy. "Yeah, you would. Trust me. They're scary as hell. Give me a drink of that." I took her glass from her and took a long drink. It was too warm and gross.

"Gross." I handed her cup back.

She laughed. "Yeah, well, you're a lightweight anyways. It's a goddamn shame I'm going to Mexico with a person who can't stand to drink too much and her...whatever he is. I really need to get drunk." She looked away, the frown she was hiding for Seth's benefit was starting to show.

I could see it was time for _that_ conversation.

"Can I get a grape, please?" I told the lady when it was my turn. I turned to Deb. "Let me ask you something. If Garrett asked you to spend forever with him, what would you say?"

Deb blinked. She seemed a little surprised by my question, or maybe it was because I had just mentioned his name.

"Well, I'd say that's a bullshit question because Garrett doesn't _want_ me at all." She took a swig of her beer. "I'm his _friend_. He's made that clear on more than one occasion." She took another drink. "But he sure does like to fuck with my heart," she choked out thickly.

I put my three bucks down on the counter and picked up my slushie. I grabbed her arm and wrapped my arm around it. We headed down Main Street towards the dance hall.

"That's not the answer I'm looking for. Look, he loves you, but this is all new to him. You gotta cut him a little slack, but you've got to push back at him, too. If he asked you tomorrow to spend forever with him, would you do it? Could you give up humanity and become a bloodsucking corpse?" I asked.

"Cute, Bell." She dodged some guy who almost knocked her beer out of her hand.

"I'm not trying to be _cute_. I'm trying to tell you like it is. Garrett _loves_ you. Garrett _wants_ you. But he looks down on himself a little, and he puts _you_ on a fucking pedestal."

I had to throw that in there because about seven weeks ago she had said something about me putting Edward Cullen on one. But at that moment, I wondered how Peter was doing with Garrett. I wondered if he, too, wanted to laugh at their sheer stubbornness. They were perfect for each other.

If talking this out between them didn't work, we were obviously going to have to lock them in a room. Peter could hold Garrett down until one of them just spit it out.

Debbie said nothing.

I looked over at her, and she was crying.

"Oh, shit."

I pulled her up the stairs to the covered porch. I took her back against the wall, and I put our drinks on a window sill where no one was standing.

"Come here," I told her, and pulled her into my arms. She obviously needed a major dose of huggage, and she was hurting, big time. It was a little weird and disheartening because, in a way, Garrett was acting just like Edward had.

A lady noticing Debbie's upset state handed me a couple of napkins she had and walked away after I smiled at her.

I patted her back. "Talk to me."

She pulled back, and I gave her the napkin so she could wipe her face and blow her nose.

Debbie sobbed out.

"I love him so much, Bella. And yes, I do want him forever. But you weren't there that night. He kissed me, and then it was like he didn't even want to touch me. No man has ever made me feel unwanted like that. It's a fucking hit on a person's self-confidence, I gotta tell you. Not to mention the fact that he hasn't called me all week."

I thought it over for a second.

"You have to take into consideration that Garrett has probably never actually kissed a human woman before, Debbie. You were bound to feel different for him." I accidentally laughed because he had felt her boobs too. She slapped at my face playfully. "And he was probably afraid that he was going to hurt you, or do worse. Not only that, but Peter told me that Garrett's afraid you don't want _him_. He's done some pretty terrible things in his lifetime, and he would need to be reassured that you love him no matter what," I told her softly.

She grabbed my slushie and I grabbed her beer. I really did need a drink. Maybe I needed _a lot_ of them. I was stressed enough as it was without the added bonus of Debbie and Garrett's impasse.

Beer wasn't my thing, but I could probably get fucked up on a few margaritas. Drunk sex with Peter was going on a list of things to do before I became a walking, talking, bloodsucking corpse.

Debbie involuntarily hiccupped and sobbed at the same time. "I know. He's told me a thing or two. Peter told you that, though? When did he say that?"

"This morning before I picked up Seth. The two of you are being stubborn and stupid," I told her firmly. "And you need to be sure that he's what you need. What you _want_. And you need to be assertive and just tell him, if it _is_ what you want. I mean, this is so unlike you! You've always gone after what you've wanted. It's made me wonder if you're afraid."

She nodded and then turned around to lean against the wall. "I am afraid. But I'm afraid of not having him in my life at all. I can kind of understand what you went through with Edward now, you know? How you thought you weren't good enough for him… I feel like that sometimes. He's a perfect gentleman, he's...handsome and perfect… Nobody has ever treated me with as much respect as he has, even if he does stare at my tits constantly."

She obviously liked the thought of it.

I laughed. "They've always had his attention. Look, call him tonight. Peter says he's not been doing anything but moping around the hotel anyways. Tell him how you feel and leave the rest up to him. He needs to quit pussyfooting around and tell _you_ how he feels, too. But Debbie..."

I couldn't finish. I couldn't talk to her about what it all would mean in the long run; giving up the chance to have a child, possibly giving up living in active society, murder and mayhem. It just didn't feel like my place for some reason.

"What?"

But I needed to for Garrett. It was his life, too. If she couldn't commit to him fully, especially if he did want her forever, then it would eventually end badly for him.

"You say you want him forever, but do you really? Could you give all this up for him?" I waved my hand around. "Could you give up having children? Can you look at that little boy right there and know that there'd be a very good chance you would kill a boy like him?" I pointed to a boy sitting on his father's shoulders down in the street. "Plus slaughter his brothers and his sisters…"

"Can you?" she asked me, somewhat defensively.

I could not look at a child and believe I'd ever be capable of draining the life out of him or her. I could not look at a child and not think about what I would be missing.

"No. I can't. Not when it comes to killing kids. I can give up the rest because I love him enough to do it. And I would kill _for_ him. But when it comes to killing the innocent - the babies - I'm putting my faith in him that he'll never let me do that, and I know he'll succeed because he wouldn't want me to feel what he felt."

A sudden breeze blew by my face, and I turned towards it, leaning my back against the wall because it was cool.

"It would be nice, though, to know what it's like to have a baby. To know what he or she would have felt like growing inside me. To...watch him or her be born, and to feel it." I laughed. "Change his dirty diapers. Hear his first word… It would be nice. But I can give it up as long as I have Peter." I smiled at her.

My eyes were welling up with tears. It wasn't an easy sacrifice, but one I was prepared to make.

Debbie wiped away hers and steeled herself. "I've spent the last week barely able to even drag my ass out of bed. I almost called you to tell you I wasn't coming. I've missed his voice and his smile, and it's been breaking my heart because I haven't seen him or talked to him. And I just didn't _know_. I don't want to forget his face, but I already am. I fell in love with him in that hospital parking lot, Bella. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't in love with the magic of it all. Of _him_. It's a fairytale, and I want it. I want to be the girl who lives happily ever after and travel the world, but only with him. Even if I'm made of stone, I know my heart won't be."

I wanted it too. I leaned my head down on her shoulder, and she leaned her head against mine. "So, what are you going to do?" I asked her quietly.

She thought for a moment. "I'm going to call Garrett tonight, and I'm going to tell him that I love him. And if that's not good enough, I'm going to tell him to go sit in the middle of Yellowstone Park and wait for that fucker to blow up. He said it'll probably happen sometime in the next thousand years."

I lifted my head up. It was just too hot for bodily contact. I smiled. "Good. I'm sure that will have the result you're looking for."

She made a face. A painful one.

"What?" I asked.

"Can you…" She sighed. "Can you come over and make sure I do it? I don't know…hold my hand, or something?"

I held back the laugh that was threatening to escape. "Yes, I can do that."

I thought for a moment about the possibility of what it would mean. It wasn't fair for either of them to have to go through a separation just because of Seth.

"And you know what? If it works out, I think you should go see him tonight. We can leave later in the morning. It's not that long of a drive. Just make sure you take a bath. Twice." I told her.

She was thoughtful for a moment as she smiled at me. "If it works out, we can always stay an extra day, you know? Have some fun with the kid. If he'll love me forever, we can both wait an extra day. We might as well make the most of it."

I think it was both hitting us at the same time. What it would mean.

If Garrett and Debbie were going to be together, I would get to keep my best friend. And so would she.

She was looking at me like I was looking at her, and she was the only one who could find the words.

"Oh, my God. You know what this means, don't you? You'll _never_ be rid of me. You'll never have to say goodbye." She smiled through another round of tears.

A friend. Maybe even a sister. Maybe even our own little coven. Sure, we were thinking way ahead, but the possibilities were there.

I breathed out. "I think that's a wonderful..."

It's amazing how quickly everything can change. It's the worst possible feeling in the world when everything goes wrong in an instant.

There was no time to reflect on just how and why everything could go wrong that quickly because time wasn't on our side.

It was on _theirs_.

There was only time to react and time to realize that evil incarnate had been staring you in the face for long enough. Long enough to know that they had figured out that we were humans who had been talking about things that were easily overheard by their kind; things we shouldn't have been speaking about in the first place. That made death coming worse by at least a hundred fold.

In one instant, it was just me and Deb, surrounded by a crowd of spectators waiting for a show to start. The deck along the dance hall was filling up with people in front of us and beside us, yet we had thought we were in our own little world.

Such was not the case. Such was not the case, even in broad fucking daylight, because that bitch wasn't afraid of anything. She was untouchable.

Or so she thought.

In the next instant, Seth was in my face and about to embrace the very gift he had been given. At that point in time, it was both a gift and a potential problem.

Life would never be the same again. Life was going to end.

"We have to get out of here. We have to get out of here right now!" He spit a little as he spoke low in my ear. His eyes were bulging out of his head and he was trembling; his nostrils flaring.

The terror, the seriousness inside his eyes; it felt like a punch to the gut.

"Seth, calm down. What's wrong?"

His whisper was low and quiet. The people in the crowd were talking and laughing, but I could feel Debbie's eyes on him, listening. "Vampires, Bella. There's goddamn bloodsuckers here. I can smell them."

He looked afraid. Vampires. More than one. I instantly thought of Peter and Garrett. I never thought about Peter not having no scent, I just instantly thought about the two of them.

"You mean here, as in here right now?" I asked.

"Yes, I mean _here_. As in right fucking now. We need to go. We need..."

He cut off and growled. His head shot to the right.

Evil was standing in the corner along an outcropping of wall at the end of the plank deck. Out of the sunlight that still lit the street, and so out of place it was almost hard to believe that they didn't seem to garner anyone else's attention. It was almost as if they were ghosts.

Which they were not.

There were three of them standing in the corner - two men and one woman. But she was hardly a woman. She was a girl. She was shorter than me. In fact, she looked like she was Alice's height. She had sheen and straight black hair pulled back by a pink cloth headband. She had heavily made up eyes and a strong, square jaw. She had the palest skin I had ever seen.

It was almost as if the bitch had been chewing on rock her entire life, but she looked just as delicate as the light pink eyelet sundress she was wearing.

Her chin was down, just like the other two. It was as if they were trying to hide themselves from being noticed.

But her eyes were on mine - deep burgundy, old and timeless, and locked on her prey. They weren't full of depth, they were full of murder and mayhem. She had the eyes of a heartless killer and the smile of a devil.

I think I knew who she was the moment I saw her. I just didn't want to acknowledge it.

The man holding her hand garnered my attention when the crowd parted, and I could see all three. He was a skinny thing and six inches taller than the girl. He was pale and a little rough-looking, and there were shadows along his cheeks. His nostrils were flaring, but he was smiling too. His jeans were dirty, and he wore a brown windbreaker. The type you pull over.

I swore I could see blood on it. His eyes were darker than the girl's, and his pupils were more dilated.

The other one was a brute of a man. Tall and broad, he was breathing very hard, like he had just run a marathon. He wore a blue T-shirt, which was dirty, and a pair of black sweats. He looked abnormally more out of place than the other two. His eyes were black, hungry, and they were twitching in their sockets.

She never took her eyes off me.

Seth growled and trembled even more. I could feel his fear, but I could feel his desire to let loose. Something popped in my chest. Something opened me up to experience a plethora of emotions like I had never felt before.

My stomach sank, but my heart was in the game. It was in the _fight_.

I wasn't going to go down easily. I almost had everything I could possibly want. I was scared, but there was hope.

I had a mate who was going to probably lose his fucking mind. I had to fight to keep my own. I had to take all the fear that slammed into me and push it away. There was no time to worry about dying. There was only time to think about how to survive.

"Bella?" I could feel Debbie's trembling form against my back. The man holding the girl's hand seemed to be staring directly at her.

"Fuck," Seth gritted out.

"Oh, my God…"

All we could do was stare back.

"It's my fault. They can smell me, just like I smelled them. Fuck...Fuck!" I could hear Seth's nostrils flaring. I could feel the release coming. I could feel it _all_. It was awe-inspiring.

I lowered my voice. "Seth, you have to stay calm. You can't..."

"I know."

He couldn't pop. He couldn't phase there. It would be devastating in so many ways.

"Bella, they're thirsty..." Debbie's voice shook. She tried to speak low, but she whimpered when the man holding the girl's hand smiled even widely at her.

"Shh. It's okay. Just...just stay calm."

It was a stupid thing to say, but she needed to stay calm. We all did. It was our only chance.

"How does she know that?" Seth seethed out.

The fucking game was up. There was only one way we could all survive, and Seth wasn't going to be able to take this on all by himself.

"She knows everything, Seth. Everything there is to know."

"Bella, call Peter and Garrett. Call them right now. Tell them to come," she cried out softly. She was losing it. I could feel her heart racing in my back. She had a grip on my arm that was sure to leave a bruise, but there was no pain worse than the thought of all that could be lost. It was there in my head and in my heart.

Death meant only one thing. It would kill him. I was sure of it.

But I had to try. He would think less of me if I didn't. If Peter would fight, then so would I. I had to survive. I had to, and so did he. There wouldn't be a gun or a bullet without my name on it. There wouldn't be a vein on my body that I wouldn't point to and tell any bloodsucking fucker where to bite. A world without Peter wasn't possible, and I knew it was the same for him.

Seth must not have heard Debbie because he said nothing. The deck was full. People were moving back in our line of sight, blocking our view of the vampires in the corner. The crowd around us gave us no way to slip out.

But then a silent prayer was answered, and the crowd parted in front of us, showing us the steps we needed to take to make our way out into the street.

"Debbie, be quiet. Seth, turn around. Walk. Stay with the crowd. We're walking out of here," I told them calmly.

Seth turned around and took one step before he froze. I felt the shiver run down his spine as I put my hand on his back, but he relaxed instantly and turned his head. Another vampire - a male - was standing about five feet behind us. He was older, and tall like the other one, and his black eyes were focused on Seth. People were walking around him, giving him a wide berth and looking at him warily.

"Oh, shit," Debbie cried quietly.

I turned a little so I could grab her arm, and I pushed her beside Seth. "Go on, Deb, head out to the gate." I glanced to the side at the vampires in the corner. I caught the woman's eyes again before I looked away. They were not moving.

But we weren't stupid. They would follow.

Seth grabbed my hand while I reached for my phone. When we got down the stairs and to the street below, he pulled me forward, and then pulled Debbie to his left side. He grabbed our arms and we walked. The crowd was thicker the closer we got to the stage, and my phone didn't dial through. The signal was shitty in the area.

"Come on, Peter…"

"What are you doing?" Seth asked harshly.

"I'm calling Peter," I told him. The grip on my arm was fierce, and he pushed me forward in front him because the crowd was thick. We had to walk single file. He was pulling Debbie behind him, his arm wrapped around her upper arm.

"Jesus Christ, Bella! How the fuck is _that_ supposed to help?"

"Seth, Peter is a vampire. So is Garrett, our friend. I decided to keep everything quiet while you were here because we didn't want to start any shit. Peter and Garrett are staying in Albuquerque. We didn't want you picking up their scents and going batshit crazy. They're not like the Cullens, Seth. They're the kind who kill what they're supposed to."

I had pushed speed dial while I broke the news. The call was going through. He didn't answer on the first ring.

"Jesus Christ, Bella!" Seth's nostrils flared with the new threat. He was shaking his head animatedly back and forth.

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry." Second ring. Seth cursed. He didn't stop, and he kept pushing me forward, but I followed his eyes. Standing under the overhang and by one of the old posts of the Saloon was another vampire. A woman. The man who had been standing behind us when we were at the dance hall walked up to her side.

Seth was practically shoving me through a group of people who were all together, talking with one another by the stage. Peter answered.

"_Hey, honey. What's up?"_

I wanted to cry, but I had to keep control. He was about to lose it.

"Peter, we're in trouble."

There was almost no pause. "_What's wrong!"_

"We're at the festival. We're on our way out. There are vampires here, Peter. Five of them!" Whichever fucking band was coming up started doing sound checks, but I swore I could hear the sound of breaking glass on the other end of the line. Seth said something, but I couldn't hear him.

He screamed into the phone, and I almost could not recognize his voice. "_Where are you! Where are they?!"_

We were moving quickly, and we finally passed the stage. The parking lot was down and to the left, south of the Food Livery, in full sunlight. There was no shade, there was only dirt, and there were people everywhere. I could see the lot. I could see my truck.

It was only five hundred yards away, but it seemed to be growing further and further away in the distance.

"We're walking to the truck. They're behind us, Peter. Are you coming?" I couldn't keep the fear out of my voice. I couldn't help but sob because I couldn't keep it contained anymore.

"_We're on our way. You get to that truck, Bella! You get in and you drive as fast as you can towards me! Don't you stop for anything! Do you understand me!?"_

I could hear the wind. I could hear him running for our lives. I could hear him falling apart.

"Yes."

"_Yes, what!"_

"I promise! I love you, Peter." I broke for just a moment.

Debbie was a mess. Seth was dragging us along, and we stumbled to meet his pace. His eyes were looking everywhere. The crowd was thinning, and we passed the livery.

"_Put Seth on!"_

I did not know the person on the other side of the phone, but I found that comforting in a way.

"He wants to talk to you, Seth."

Seth let go of our arms. "Run. Run to truck!" He swiped the phone out of my hand and we ran for dear life. It was just a jog for Seth.

Four hundred yards now. Four hundred yards just to get in a truck that had no hope of outrunning a vampire.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

Most people have a tendency to be predictable.

And then there are those who are not.

You have your leaders and you have your followers. And then you have those who are unique, who don't bend towards the will of the self-proclaimed righteous, and who more often than not fail at leading by example.

I like to think of myself as one of them – unique and with a mind of my own, even though I've had to share it.

I have always done what's felt right for me and me alone. While some might think I could be easily persuaded to follow a certain path, I did what is right for my best interests, for what was right for my mind and for my soul.

I have a good heart.

And I have a good nose. I could smell a bear two miles away. I could smell Emily's banana muffins clinging to Quil's coat when he stopped by after school. I could smell a goddamn vampire in Bella's house when the scent was probably weeks old.

And I could smell a bunch of the fuckers tracking me under the worst possible circumstances. It was safe to say that when I went looking for trouble, it nearly cost two others their lives. I just didn't know that until I realized I was being distracted and until it was almost too late.

One of the men had taken me on a tour of the backside of the town. I had dodged between buildings and streets, chased shadows and blurs, until I realized I was only following one scent. There were still _five_ more of them out there.

I should have just stood in line for chicken. I would have seen them closing in.

After chasing Paul Bunyan - a big, burly Mexican, who looked and smelled like he was the ass clown who threw candy at a parade after he had swum through a river of shit to get to his full time job as the ugliest bloodsucker to walk the face of the earth - I figured out he was trying to lead me further away from the town set. Away from the girls.

Bella and Debbie. They had been with me. My scent was all over them. That bloodsucker wasn't trying to kill _me..._he was trying to lead me away from _them_. We had yet to see him when we started crossing the parking lot.

Bunyan was enough of a threat by himself. He was about my height and one thick motherfucker. His fucking hair was wild. It was black and he had a beard. He was wearing a thick, insulated plaid shirt. And I don't why, but the name Paul Bunyan just seemed to fit the bill.

I had faced the facts early enough - I was going to die. These girls were also going to die. There was no way I could kill or outrun six vampires. I had inadvertently sentenced Bella and Debbie to death.

That is, until Bella showed me a light at the end of the tunnel. Thank fucking _God_ for my bloodsucker-loving stepsister and her friend. It was all starting to fall together after Bella told me her husband-to-be was a vampire. And when Debbie started chanting the other one's name quietly, I had it all figured out.

They were one big, happy, leech-loving family; and things were about to get real interesting.

They'd also tear my heart out. Because I had a good heart. And I could _feel_ the love between them all. It was strange that in the midst of quite the terrorizing situation, I could feel it. I could appreciate it, and I could respect it, but I couldn't understand it.

The other amazing thing was that although I was scared, and I was getting ready to bubble over and just wreak fucking havoc, it only took one touch from Bella to keep myself reigned in.

Bella was in control. She was afraid, she was crying, but she was trying to save us all. This shit was a cakewalk for her. You don't go through what she has gone through and _not_ go down fighting.

"He wants to talk to you, Seth." Her voice was thick, almost husky with emotion.

I let go of their arms simultaneously and grabbed the phone out of her hand.

"Run. Run to the truck!" They obeyed immediately, and I stayed right on their ass as Bella grabbed Debbie's hand and took off.

"What!" I said into the phone.

"_She tell you about me!?"_ The voice on the other end was desperate, forceful, and a little fucking scary. I could tell he was running. I could hear the air whipping by in the background.

"She just told me her boyfriend's a leech! If it was anyone else, I'd probably be shocked!"

"_SAVE THE BULLSHIT FOR LATER, SETH! WHERE ARE THEY!?"_ The vamp sounded whacked, and the speaker in the phone cracked and sizzled when he had literally screamed. Desperation wasn't the word. And he was right; the bullshit did need to wait for later.

Bella stumbled and fell, nearly taking Debbie down with her. She cried out, but she picked herself up at the same time and didn't falter again.

"How the fuck should I know?! They're not following, but that don't mean shit!" My eyes were scanning the desert prairie and the buildings behind us. My ears were open, but all I could hear were people and music. We were in the light of the sun, running in the dirt towards the parking lot where Bella's truck was parked.

"_Listen to me, Seth! Listen to me very carefully! You've gotta get them to that truck. Let Bella drive. She knows this area. You'll head south until you run into me! You..."_

The bloodsucker stopped short.

"I what? What?"

I heard the most inhuman sound ever known to man. It was somewhere between the growl of a lion and a man in agony.

_"Oh, God! You gotta g__et them out of there! You get them out of there right now! She's gonna kill her!"_

"What the fuck do you think I'm trying to do!"

"_Get them out of there! Oh, GOD, you've gotta get them out! Listen to me, Seth. PLEASE! You know me. You know who I am. Don't let her take her away from me, PLEASE!"_

The motherfucker broke my goddamn heart. And he confused the fuck out of me.

"What do you mean I know you!?" We were less than fifty yards away from the truck. Bella had taken off her little purse backpack and was rifling through it for her keys.

"_You KNOW me! You've seen me before! In the water that day four years ago! I was the one in the water the day your father died. Please, Seth, you gotta..you gotta help us. Help her! Please!" _

It was akin to having a rug pulled out from under me. But there was no rug, just dirt. Plus, even in that moment I had to wonder why he said the day my father died, as opposed to the day Victoria was killed. Something _he_ had a part in.

But I realized something more important in that moment. He _knew_ me.

"What's that supposed to do, bloodsucker! Keep me from killing you?"

"_No. You won't make it!"_

We were at the truck. Bella ran to her side while Debbie was trying to get in the backseat on the passenger side. I jerked Debbie back, startling her when she went to get in, and slammed the door shut. I opened my door and boosted her up so she could sit in the middle. I needed to keep them close. I don't know why I thought that, but I did just the same.

I heard what the bloodsucker said. And the thing was, he hadn't stated it like it was a threat. He had stated it like it was a fact. He either had some serious balls or the fucker was crazy after all.

I was leaning towards both. But I also wondered what his reasoning was behind his 'no'.

The whole time this was going on, it was obvious that Bella was listening to what she could. She was listening to me, and she wasn't missing a beat. Her face was hard and she was doing everything she could to hold it together. She had the key in the ignition and she backed up, tossing her head around to look out the window, stealing a glance at me.

"How far out, bloodsucker?"

"_Seven fuck…minutes! Get them out of there! Get her OUT!"_ His phone was cutting out. At the same time, Bella had another call coming through. Her line beeped. I ignored it, but I was half-tempted to ask her if she wanted me to take the call.

Bella slammed the truck into drive and pushed the goddamn pedal to the floor.

"You just stay on the goddamn line, leech. _You_…" I looked over at Bella. Debbie was hyperventilating in the seat beside me. "You start fucking talking right now!"

Bella looked at me like she wanted to knock the shit out of me, drag me behind the truck, shoot me, and then maybe remove my nuts.

She put her eyes on the road as she took to the gravel that led back to the main road.

"Everything I told you earlier was the truth. Everything about him. But he's a vampire and he's been through a world of shit, so don't _fuck_ with me! It's my goddamn life and I love him, and he and Garrett are gonna save the motherfucking day! You will not hurt him, Seth. I won't let you."

"Well, I hope your leech saves the motherfucking day, Bella, because there are six of those bastards and one of them is as big as Paul fucking Bunyan!" The 'fucks' were flying, but I'd have gone to hell years ago.

Debbie started to go hysterical in the seat next to me. "Oh, god, there's six, there's six of them, there's six of them! Drive faster, Bella!"

The bloodsucker on the phone wasn't saying anything. The wind was whipping one moment, and then it was gone the next. There was silence. All of a sudden I saw a blur cut across the gravel road and streak across the desert, falling down into a dip.

"Aww, fuck." The wind was back on the phone.

"Did you see that?!" Bella yelled at the same time.

"_WHAT!"_ the leech asked.

"We're being followed, leech! We're being fucking followed!"

"Seth, tell him I'm going left on Rancho Alegre. Tell him…" Bella choked out thickly.

"There's a vampire to the left, Bella!" She stomped on the breaks while running the stop sign and made a sharp left.

"Just tell him!"

"Aww, fuck! Leech, your girl just turned left!" I wasn't sure entirely, but we seemed to be headed due east. The way I knew it, Albuquerque was to the southwest of where we were.

"_That's good, baby! That's good! That's my girl!"_ the bloodsucker said into the phone. He was _laughing_. The crazy son of a bitch was _laughing_.

Four more sparkly blurs came out from Bella's side, all dropping into the dip, which was a trench under the road. We were just getting ready to cross over the bridge built over the trench, and Bella had the pedal down again, accelerating.

"Aww, fuck! How is that good, bloodsucker? They're gonna be under us, goddammit! We're heading east!"

"_Seth, she knows what she's doing. See the people? See the cars? They're not stupid enough to try it!"_ He said as she passed some kind of Toyota sports car that was going too slow on the bridge, on her way up to eighty-five.

Nothing happened. I turned in my seat, scanning the landscape for any sign of unnatural life, sparkly shit, or fucking rainbows. The sun was sitting low in the sky, and the glare made it nearly impossible to see, even for my eyes. But the landscape was also getting thicker. There were bushes I had no name for, some kind of pine trees that looked like they lacked water, and goddamn hills everywhere.

Plenty of places to fucking _hide_.

"There's a turn-off a mile up the road that heads straight south. Ask him…how long?" I took a glance at Bella. Her voice broke, and she looked like she was about to lose it. Tears stained her blotchy face, and her nose was running a little. She kept her eyes on the road in front of us.

"_Tell her five! Tell...five minutes!"_

"Your bloodsucker says five minutes."

She reached the turn-off she was going to take and slowed down to take a hard right. It was a goddamn dirt road that looked like it was going to run into a small mountain.

"Seth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you. But there was no way I could tell you, no way I could ask…"

"You're right. There's no way you _could_ tell me. You wanna marry some goddamn bloodsucker, then go right ahead. But fuck you for lying to me, Bella! I smelled the leech at your goddamn house, just so you know. I thought it was a Cullen. Now I find out you're involved with some bona fide bloodsuckers and you expect me _not_ to kill him? You should have fucking told me. You should have fucking told me before I ever fucking came down here. Now look where it's gotten us!"

I wasn't going to kill the bastard. If he saved my ass, I'd walk the fuck away. But she needed to know. She needed to know that what she did was wrong.

Debbie, however, took the ever-so-wonderful opportunity to blow her fucking top right at that moment. She was in my face.

"You know WHAT? Fuck YOU, you son of a bitch! She didn't know what was gonna happen. No one did! She didn't know when she asked you to come down that she was gonna fall in love with Peter, so get the fuck over it! And that 'leech' you smelled in her house just so happens to be someone I love, and if you call him or Peter a leech or a bloodsucker one more fucking time, I'm gonna knock the fucking shit out of you, so just shut the fuck up!"

Debbie sat back and she was in tears, sobbing and whimpering.

Until that moment, I had never even thought of ever hitting a woman.

Bella grabbed Debbie's forearm for just a second to reassure her. "Deb, shh… It's okay. He's right. I should have told him. He should have never come here." She spoke more loudly, her voice strong yet thick with emotion. "For what's it worth, I'm sorry."

Bella said nothing more as she glared at the road ahead, her foot on the pedal. She hit a hill, and we were airborne for a good second or two before we found ourselves coming down hard, the truck bouncing a couple of times. The bones in her little, delicate hands looked like they were about to break because of the grip she had on the steering wheel.

I wish it would have gone differently.

Time was not on our side, and knowing that that was possibly the last thing we would ever say to each other was the second lowest point of my life.

"OH, GOD! PETER!"

Bunyan came out of nowhere, heading right down the middle of the road, and slammed into the truck head on. Bella was pushing about fifty-five.

I heard Debbie let out a blood curdling scream. Maybe it was because I phased.

I was out of my skin the moment I saw him. The windshield shattered when the vampire made impact, and he shredded the hood of the truck.

I was right where I wanted to be.

Debbie and Bella weren't wearing their seat belts, but I hadn't had time to curl in on myself either.

I caught a glimpse of Bella's airbag attempting to deploy, along with the bag on the passenger side of the dash, at the same time the truck started flipping. If I had moved, I would have killed them both. But I was also crushing them.

I wish I would have told her it was okay, that I understood why, even if I really didn't know why. His name echoed through my ears. It was the last word I had heard.

But I could have sworn I heard a monster's roar the moment I dropped that phone.

It was all enough to break my heart.

My head hit the dirt. I hadn't been able to hold onto anything, and when the weight came down on me, everything went black.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

Consciousness found me quick.

It's kind of hard not to find you when some low life bitch is pulling you out of the truck by your hair.

Or maybe I should call her a cunt. Peter couldn't seem to call her anything else, but that was a word I didn't like to use. It was the worst derogatory way to refer to a woman.

It took a few seconds for me to remember what had happened. I remembered Seth screaming something unintelligible, and I remembered seeing something in the road. Then all I could see was fur, and I could feel his crushing weight. My first glimpse of the sandy-colored wolf was vague, and I didn't want to think about what that meant because he had phased in the truck and Deb had been sitting so close to him. Something collided head on with the truck, and that was when everything went black.

He saved us. Seth had saved us with his body. He had put himself between us and the oncoming locomotive. When the truck started rolling - or flipping - everything went dark.

But it was hazy when I saw the light again, and I couldn't feel very much. My body was still trying to get caught up. I noticed that my head hurt. It was throbbing, in fact, behind my eyes. And it felt like I was about to black out again.

And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened.

Still, I struggled, and the words that left my throat didn't even sound like words to me. I wondered if they understood them.

The first thing of consequence that my eyes noticed was the black-haired girl who was dragging me by my ponytail. I could feel my legs scraping along the dirt and the rock. She passed me off to the man who held her hand.

The second thing I saw was Seth.

The sandy-colored wolf I remembered from days long past, though I'd have to say he had grown, was lying underneath my truck, which had flipped upside down and been completely totaled. He was trapped half in and half out of where the windshield used to be, caught under the cab and the hood. His muzzle was lax, and his canines, which were larger than my hand, posed no threat. He was bleeding from the chest. A piece of twisted metal from the frame of the windshield was the culprit. He was not moving.

He was dead.

I think I screamed.

The second thing I noticed was that the large vampire - the one Seth called Paul Bunyan - was pulling Debbie out of the passenger side door. She was still alive. Her chest was moving but her breathing was labored. Blood trickled out of her nose, out of her mouth, and out of her ears. There were deep oozing cuts on her upper chest - claw marks where one of Seth's paws had sliced into her.

And there was something sticking out of her stomach, something that reflected the last remaining rays of the setting sun.

A bloodied piece of chrome, probably from my grill, had impaled itself through her abdomen. Her shirt was soaked with blood. It poured thick and black underneath her with every beat of her heart that was supplying the organ pierced.

It was her liver.

The vampire threw her some twenty feet, and she collided with a pinion tree. Somewhere inside her a bone broke. She landed hard, the dull thump of her dying vessel and the whimper that escaped enough to make it all real. Her body was contorted in a way that made the sight that much more unbearable. Her back had been broken.

I screamed again, only this time I didn't stop.

I was slipping away. I felt like I was falling. I tried to fight it off. I tried to fight whoever the fuck was holding me and crushing my arms.

The little black haired girl said something I couldn't understand. There were sweet bells in her voice.

The last thing I saw was Paul Bunyan walking toward Deb, and then I was flying, flying into the dark. I was dying, and maybe…maybe that was for the best. Seth was dead. Debbie would be dead, either by vampire or just because she'd bleed to death from all the internal injuries. It was enough to strip me of whatever fight I had left.

It was all my fault. Through all my choices and all my mistakes, I had killed them. Our families would grieve, and our mates would suffer and bear the consequences.

And dish out a little of it, too. There would be hell to pay. That thought was more horrifying than the rest. The lengths he would go to…and Garrett would surely follow.

It was the most awful feeling in the world. There was no turmoil I could ever experience that would be greater than this.

He was the only thing I could think about. He had suffered through so much, and he would have to endure it again. I didn't want to die. I wanted to _live_.

_Oh, Peter. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't live. Oh, God, baby. I'm so, so sorry…_

I heard a roar in the distance. It was the most inhuman, bellowing sound I had ever heard. It pricked at every nerve in my body, and I felt its agony all the way down in the marrow of my bones. If Heaven existed, I was sure God could hear it.

I embraced the darkness. I fell into it. There were two times in my life that I could compare to the feeling - one was when I jumped off the cliff at First Beach, and the other was the one I dreamed about.

I had a dream when I was a child a few times after it occurred. Years had come and gone, and with them, new experiences, new things to create dreams and nightmares. It was funny how I could remember it now.

I fell off a slide at a park my mother used to take me to. A rocket slide. I was twenty-five feet in the air when I lost my footing, but I landed on my feet.

Only it was different this time. This time I could feel the hands on my ribs. They were cool and hard, and they didn't leave my skin.

I turned around and saw an angel. The light danced off of him, and his eyes were the color I remembered. The color I liked best.

He smiled.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

Everything happens for a reason.

Even death.

And...faking it.

As fucked up as it was, I laid there and I re-evaluated my career choice. The situation was a dire one, and someone _was_ dying. It's funny and not so funny what you think of when you're on the brink of madness, insanity, and even death. But nonetheless, I honestly thought about becoming an actor because that was some stellar fucking acting on my part.

Playing dead. I _owned_ that shit.

But it broke my fucking heart to do it. I didn't really have a choice, though. There were two tons of fucking scrap metal lying on my legs and a piece of the windshield frame was embedded in my right shoulder.

I had found life among the living again when that cunt came up and ripped Bella out of the truck. I could hear their hearts, and I could smell the blood and the bile. Debbie was in trouble.

Debbie was going to die.

I kept my eyes closed because opening them would have been a dead giveaway. And I kept my mouth lax, letting little air flow down, letting little exhales out, just so my chest wouldn't move so much.

Which was stupid. Because I forgot the sons of bitches could hear my heart.

But it fooled Bella, which was why I was re-evaluating my career choices. The girl had the lowdown on my kind yet she still thought I was dead. I realized she was probably not all that coherent, but sometimes she needed a good knock to the head. _Helloooooo_!

Hence the reason her scream broke my heart. I could feel her turmoil, her grief, her sorrow, and her horror. I wanted to cry.

I had one fucking chance - one fucking chance to live, and one fucking chance to _try_ to save the girls. But it all changed within a matter of a second.

Paul Bunyan ripped open the passenger door and dragged Debbie out. From what it sounded like, he threw her and she collided with something that broke her fall…and two bones somewhere in her body.

Bella screamed again. "NONONONONONO!NO!No..." The saliva in her throat was thick and she choked on it.

It was so gut-wrenching to hear because this wasn't the way it was supposed to go. This wasn't the way we were supposed to say goodbye. This wasn't the way it was supposed to end.

I opened my eyes right when I heard the answer to Bella's scream in the distance. Something was coming. Someone was coming _quick_.

"Kill them. Make sure you rip him apart. Look for our trail in Terlingua."

The little one - the cute, little, black-haired girl who had an obvious thing for pink - had an awesome voice. It was a kind of lulling and sweet thing, with a tinkling of bells behind it. Pity it belonged to such a cunt.

They stood there not fifteen feet from the truck, shining in the last rays of the sun. The five were standing together, and the big fucker was over by Debbie. She had told the other woman to kill us.

But then she was gone with the bloodsucker who had been holding her hand back at the ranch, and she took Bella and two others with her, running off to the southwest with the others.

Bella was gone. She was going to die.

Things happen for a reason. Choices are made, and sometimes they're the right ones and sometimes they're the wrong ones.

Ninety percent of the time, I like to think I make the right ones.

The woman - the one who stayed - was a pretty, stacked, dirty blond, wearing no shoes, a pair of cut-offs, and a green tube top. She made the wrong choice.

But then, so did I. Or so I had thought.

She might have been dying already, but I'd be damned if I was going to let that big fucker kill Debbie, however way he planned to do it. There was always a chance things weren't as bad as they looked. There was always a chance that Debbie could be put back together.

But I knew she was dying. I just didn't want to face the fact.

The woman wasted no time coming over to the truck, and the fact was if she was going to kill me, she was going to have to lift the fucker off me. That meant pain because a good portion of the windshield frame was still lodged in my shoulder and that fucker had to come out.

All the while, the big motherfucker had blurred over to Debbie, and he picked her up by her neck like she was a helpless puppy or kitten. I suppose the good thing was she was unconscious and already dying.

I had my target.

I couldn't keep the yelp contained when Trailer Trash Barbie picked up the truck and the piece of frame tore away from my shoulder. It did occur to me that she'd be on my ass quicker than shit. But I only had about eighteen feet to cover, and then that leech's neck would be in my throat. He was having a taste; licking the blood that seeped down her chin from her nose and her mouth, so I went for it.

It was still the right choice.

But I wasn't that quick.

Paul Bunyan saw me coming and he dropped Debbie like a sack of potatoes and used his body as a battering ram, slamming right into me and knocking me short. It was so quick I couldn't even get in a bite, and the fucker dislocated the same shoulder that had been pierced by the windshield frame.

That was when I really thought I was going to die because they were both on me, and I could feel my chest and torso being crushed by his arms; and that bitch was on my back, going for my neck. My lungs were being crushed.

Through my own howl of pain, growls and grumbles of threat, and the bloodsucker's own, the _something_ that was _coming_ was there.

I'd never call a vampire a leech again. A bloodsucker, yes, but never a leech. Leeches were ugly and slimy. They were the epitome of the word _eww_.

The sun's final rays of light dipped down beneath one of the larger hills on the high prairie, and the crushing weight was just…_gone_.

That was when I met the craziest motherfucker I had ever seen…and I found the ghost. How wonderful and fucked up it was to find out he was _both_.

When he told me he was the one in the water that day, I guess I just didn't really want to believe it. Maybe it was because, in a way, I kind of group him in with the likes of angels and gods - all the things that are larger than life. He was just a bloodsucker, but he wasn't like the rest.

I fell to the earth flat on my belly. The pain in my chest and shoulder throbbed and pulsed, making my jaw twitch as I tried to stand. The pressure was intense and I gave up and just flopped, but I could feel the subtle tingles of my body healing and mending. The hole that the windshield frame had left was closing up, and the burn of taking a breath was becoming more and more subtle.

It wasn't much of a fight.

Bloodsucker One was on Paul Bunyan. He had him down in the dirt on his stomach. The fact is they had both taken us all down, but Bloodsucker One had slammed into him so hard that they were still sliding off on the ground, and the resounding crack through the prairie was only being trumped by the crushing blow of rock meeting rock. He was straddling Bunyan's backside, and he pummeled the side of Bunyan's head so hard that it crushed and shattered beneath his fist. A milky colored fluid exploded all over the ground, and all over Bloodsucker One's shirt.

Bunyan's head was just…gone. In an instant, it was gone. Dust and rock. It didn't even resemble a head. In the next motion - the next instant - he was on his feet. His foot was planted into Bunyan's backside, giving him leverage as he broke and pulled his arms off. He then bent Bunyan's left leg in a way that no man's leg should ever fucking bend, and he snapped it off.

I had to wonder if Bunyan's balls went with it.

I watched him the entire time because it's not every day you see a ghost. It was _him_ - that much I was sure - but he looked different. He was dressed this time. He was wearing a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt, and his feet were bare. Maybe it was the clothes…or maybe it was his eyes.

Bloodsucker Two was the only one who made any kind of noise.

Bloodsucker One didn't even growl the entire time he dismembered Bunyan. Not one little sound.

Bloodsucker Two had simply twisted and pulled the head off the female, but she had bitten him in the arm first, which just seemed to spur him on to knock a hole through the center of her chest before pulling her head off in a fit of rage. He moved just as quickly and with purpose as he removed her limbs.

The wail she released, and the high pitched cracks of rock being shattered, ripped, and torn away faded into the distance.

It was silent for just a moment.

Bloodsucker Two scrambled over to Debbie on all fours. Garrett.

Bloodsucker One had moved around the truck right after he had finished with Bunyan. He squatted to look inside the truck. He moved around it, looking everywhere. His head was turning in all directions, scanning, looking for what was lost.

Peter. The Ghost.

He moved to the other side of the truck, to the door that Debbie was pulled out of. He walked a little towards me. He looked to the southwest and fell to his knees not ten feet away from me. It was like he had lost the use of his legs. There was nothing graceful about it at all.

He looked at Garrett and Debbie. He looked at me. He looked at the dirt. He was blinking at an almost constant rate. His eyes were black, dull and nearly lifeless. The rims of his lids were red, the whites of his eyes nearly gone.

And he was just like I remembered, except this guy looked like he was _actually_ dead. His jaw was clenched tight, and I was afraid of what would come out when he finally would let it relax.

Garrett, the other bloodsucker, picked up Debbie's top half as gently as possible, cradling her head and her neck in the palm of his hand, and he lay her between his legs. He was rubbing the blood away from her face. He was growling in a way that made it remorseful, sobs in a way, and crying but with no tears.

"Deborah, no. No, Deborah, no…"

It had only been a minute or less.

I pulled myself together, and I was in front of Peter in the next moment.

"What are you doing? She just took her! Get your ass moving! You can chase her down! Get off your ass and go get her!"

Dead, dull, and black eyes met mine. He just shook his head and started rocking a little. "No. She's dead. She's dead. I can't feel her anymore. Maria killed her. She's dead. She's gone. OH, GOD, SETH! SHE'S DEAD!"

Peter curled in on himself and wailed.

At precisely the same moment, Garrett started going nuts. "Deborah! Deborah, no! No, goddammit! NO!"

When I turned around, Debbie was convulsing. Her entire body was wracked with spasms, and all her limbs were flailing about. Her eyes were open but rolling back into her head and her mouth was spewing out thick, red blood and bile.

Her heartbeat was faint and slowing down. Garrett was trying to clear her mouth, sticking his fingers inside to clear her throat. He was coming undone.

The shit just sort of hit the fan. Again. But everything happens for a reason. You have to take into consideration that the utter heartbreak - the insanity and the violence - makes people do stupid things, things we don't think entirely through.

Either that or I really _was_ a fucking idiot.

Garrett's teeth were planted in Debbie's neck before I even realized what his intentions were.

It had a negative effect because all I thought was that the bloodsucker was going to go ahead and finish her off, while getting his fill of whatever hadn't seeped into the ground.

I didn't hear the car coming. I was too caught up in the moment. What with Peter's delusion of Bella being dead and him falling to pieces, I didn't hear shit. Plus, I was way fucking furious that Garrett was feeding off the girl who loved him.

I caught a glimpse of it as I phased and lunged for Garrett's head, but I didn't know what it was. Something yellow just flashed in my peripheral view.

But I should have known something bad was going to happen. I should have _felt_ it.

Something hard knocked the ever living fuck out of me and threw me a good twenty feet away. Me, a big ass wolf and the size of a fucking horse; but he tossed me like I was Leah's My Little Pony.

My other shoulder - my left - was either broken or dislocated. Both my shoulders were fucked, and they burned and throbbed through my chest in the worst possible way. It was fucking agony.

I expected to see Peter when I rolled off my back. I was down, and there was no way I could fight anymore.

I howled off the agony I felt, trying to move from my side to my belly, just so I could spew out all the hatred I had for all the goddamn bloodsucking motherfuckers through my pain.

But I couldn't shift back, because it wasn't Peter.

It was someone else, twenty feet away from where he had knocked me. Five feet away from Garrett and Debbie. The other occupant of the car was just getting out. Less than a second later, she was at Garrett's side.

Two new threats. Two new reasons _not_ to shift.

The man was blond, his hair was kind of like the color of honey. He was tall, a little on the broad side, and he was looking at me like he was pissed.

But he was also looking at me like I was a fucking idiot.

He was dressed simple enough - a pair of designer faded blue jeans and a black, long sleeve, thermal shirt. I noticed his eyes when he talked. They were black. He was pale, and there were shadows under his eyes. He was young. His hair was on the long side, like Peter's, except his was wavy. But there was something odd about his skin.

"Heal, dipshit. He's trying to save her, not kill her," he said kind of quiet like, but in a condescending sort of way. I noticed he had just the faintest hint of a southern accent.

He turned away after he gave me another idiotic look to walk over to Peter, who was on the ground, face down in the dirt, clawing at it and wailing.

Whoever he was, he either had balls or he felt no threat. Maybe because there wasn't any.

As soon as he turned his back, my anger just fell away. I felt as calm as could be and a little on the tired side. The throbbing pain in my shoulders dulled quite a bit, and I didn't have a care in the world.

I wanted to buy a bunny and rip that fucker apart at the same time.

But the feeling left as soon as he knelt down to Peter.

The other vampire was a girl, also young. She was the shortest and cutest little shit I had ever seen. Very cute for a vampire. She had to be about five feet, and she was very petite. Her features were soft enough, though she had a point to her chin and her nose. She had black, short hair, and she had the front pinned and the back spiked. She was in a pair of black jeans and some type of tank top-black frock contraption, which fell off her shoulders and made her legs look shorter because it covered her ass. I caught a glimpse of her eyes as she looked over at me frantically. They were black too.

And she was just as distraught as Garrett was. Garrett's lips weren't at Debbie's throat anymore, they were at the crease of her left elbow.

"Seal the wound, Garrett! Her heart's failing!"

The vampire - the girl - tore down the front of Debbie's shirt. He moved down from her elbow to lick and spit on the wound in her stomach just as the girl pulled out the piece of chrome that had impaled Debbie. Debbie's body jerked and she started choking. I was already pulling myself together, trying to work my way to my knees so I could stand up.

I watched the girl put pressure on the wounds on Debbie's chest, where my back paw must have caught her. They weren't bleeding badly, she was just trying to keep what little blood she had left in her.

I was on my feet, walking sluggishly closer, tripping over one of Bunyan's legs. The male vampire was prying Peter's head up from the ground with his hands, trying to get him to sit up. Peter had stopped wailing and had fallen silent.

But I watched Garrett and the girl. The girl moved around to her head to prop Debbie's neck further back and clear her mouth. The girl was whispering something too quickly for me to pick up what she was saying, but she was obviously desperate and beside herself.

Debbie stilled for just a moment, and then she took a breath. The wound in her stomach was healing. Her skin seemed to regenerate at a ridiculous pace, like it was growing back together.

Garrett bit the other crease in her elbow, sealed the wound, and then moved to her chest. He bit her above her heart.

Her heart, which had seemed like it was going to thump its last beat, took off.

Her eyes popped open and she took another breath, letting out the most blood curdling scream of agony I had ever heard. Blood spewed from her mouth.

Garrett pulled back. He was breathing hard and he pulled her up to cradle her against his chest. Debbie continued to scream.

"What's wrong with her?" It was a stupid question, but she wasn't dying anymore. Her heart was beating like a locomotive.

The girl's eyes snapped up to mine. She was cleaning off the blood around Debbie's face with her frock. "She's fine, Seth. It's the venom. It burns. She's in pain, but she'll be fine," she said calmly, letting out a sigh of relief. Bells tinkled in her voice, too, and her eyes flashed over to Peter and the other male.

"So she'll live?"

"She'll live, but she won't be human." She looked back at me. "Want to kill her? Put her out of her misery? Don't even think about it. I'll take your fucking head off." She kissed Debbie's forehead and moved to get up.

No, I didn't want to kill her. And I think I realized at that moment that I didn't want to kill any of them. But she was going to become my enemy simply because of what she was going to become. There was nothing that could change that.

The girl blurred over to Peter and the other vampire. He was trying to get Peter to sit up, and I could hear him talking low but I couldn't understand the words. The girl squatted down next to the male.

"Well?" she asked him.

He just started shaking his head quickly back and forth. I walked closer just as the male groaned out, like he was in pain or something. "He's fucking killing me."

The female shushed him and put her palm to his cheek. She went to her knees and grabbed Peter by the shoulders, lifting him with ease, and she put his shoulders and head awkwardly on her lap, holding him. She started to rub Peter's face with her hand while the other male moved to sit in front of her on his ass, one leg folded by Peter's side, and the other stretched out and around the girl.

Peter was between the two of them, shuddering. His face was twitching, and it wore the most awful grimace I had ever seen. I walked closer until I was five feet away from them.

The male spoke. "Peter, come on. Come on, brother. Open your eyes. She's still alive, but we gotta go get her." He put his hand over Peter's heart and left it there.

Peter's eyes snapped open.

If I could live out my entire life as a normal human being without being touched by the mythical, I would be more than willing because there was no way in hell I'd ever want to experience the searing pain and the agony of loss I saw in his black eyes. They weren't just black, though. They were dead.

Bella had told Jake once that vampires couldn't cry. She said they couldn't produce tears. There was fluid - or venom - that lubricated their eyes, but they couldn't cry actual tears. Peter had, though, and it looked like his upper and lower lids were burning. They were reddish pink, and it was quite the contrast to the rest of his pale face.

I remember what Jake had told Bella, too. He had told her that it made sense. A soulless leech didn't need to cry because they were just that - dead, soulless, and heartless. And no amount of effort on their part could change the fact that they lived only for the kill, even if they were Cullens and only killed animals.

I looked at that man…at that vampire…and I knew it wasn't true. There was no amount of loneliness or helplessness that I could ever experience that would even compare to the loss he felt. The loss he _believed_ he had to endure.

I don't think he would have endured it at all.

There were so many questions going through my mind. Everything was so confusing because this was the _ghost_. This was the man in the water that day. Did Bella know him even back then? It made no sense.

But that wasn't what was important at the time.

"Peter. Get up. Bella is still _alive_," the male said firmly. The girl leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Peter blinked. "No. No. No, she's not. I can't feel her anymore. She's DEAD! BELLA IS DEAD!" he wailed out, the sound carrying across the prairie and making my eardrums tremor.

The girl was sobbing. She leaned down and touched his forehead with hers and spoke loudly. "Peter, listen to me! She is still ALIVE! Maria did not kill her! You know this! She didn't kill her! Maria knows who she is to you, Peter. She heard them talking about you and Garrett. She's repeating HISTORY! She's going to wait for you to come after her and then she's going to kill her! We know where's she's taking her, and so do _you_."

Peter just shook his head and started chanting low, "..No…"

They weren't getting anywhere with him.

The two vampires looked exasperated and considerably worried, and they spoke quickly back and forth to each other so quietly that I couldn't hear what was being said.

The entire time this was going on, Debbie lay screaming in Garrett's arms. He held her, rocking her back and forth. His eyes were closed, and it looked like he was praying.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked.

The girl brought her head up and her eyes snapped to me at the same time as the male. Her nose scrunched up a little, like she was smelling something bad.

"We're Cullens, Seth. I'm Alice and he's Jasper. Nice to meet you, finally," she said quietly. Peter blinked.

She was the one who could see the future. He was the empath, the one who tried to bite Bella on her birthday. I had had my suspicions, but their eyes had been black. I could see now that her eyes were rimmed with gold…or butterscotch.

I could also tell who was who. Garrett had been the one in Bella's house. The Cullens' sweet and sickly scent was more subtle than his. And Peter? I couldn't smell shit coming from him. I had been in his face earlier and there had been nothing - no trace of any sweet smell whatsoever.

I moved closer. Jasper lowered his chin a little - a warning, I suppose - and I noticed that there were several areas of skin covering his neck and jaw that were misshaped or raised. Crescent marks. Someone had bitten the shit out of him, or maybe more than one.

"So, you know Bella, but how do you know him?" I asked.

Jasper just looked at Peter with severity. But he also looked like he was concentrating. It explained my need to go buy a fucking furry bunny earlier.

Alice sighed. "Peter is Jasper's brother. Jasper...made Peter. We haven't seen him in over twenty-one years. Jasper hasn't anyway."

I noticed Peter blinking every time she mentioned Jaspers' name. He was listening. He might not have been absorbing it, but he was listening.

"Peter, that bitch told those bloodsuckers you killed to follow the trail out of Terlingua. Bella was still alive when they flew off with her. Bella wasn't hurt that bad," I told him.

Everything changed the moment I said her name.

His face turned quickly in Alice's lap and he was looking at me like he wanted to rip my fucking head off.

"Seth, say it again. Tell him what happened," Jasper said quietly. A grin was threatening to work its way across his lips.

I stepped closer. I was three feet away and I knelt down. His eyes followed my every movement.

"The bloodsucker you killed was trying to lead me away from the festival. It's the reason why the others closed in on Bella and Debbie. When I got back to the girls, four of them were already there. Bella was good, Peter. Bella was good. She got us out of there without me phasing. She kept it together, and Bella was fine when that bitch took her. Bella was okay, but she probably thinks I'm dead along with Debbie."

There was a twitch somewhere behind me and it got all of our attention. The girl's arm - the one Garrett had killed - was moving. The fingers were bending, trying to find a surface to grab or a missing part.

When we looked back to Peter, his eyes were on Jasper.

"Jasper," he stated quietly.

"Yep." Jasper grinned.

Peter was furious. "What are you…how did you...how the fuck are you here?"

Jasper grinned even more. "We've been trying to call all of you ever since Alice saw Maria with Bella this afternoon, but all of your goddamn lines have been dead. She's taking Bella to Big Bend, Peter. I think you better wake the fuck up and help me figure out what we're gonna do because Alice ain't no fucking help. She can't see shit."

"Fuck you..." she said quietly. She was playing with Peter's hair, pushing it back behind his ears.

Peter was staring up at the sky. His lips were twitching and he was blinking rapidly. "She wants to kill her in front of me. She's gonna kill her just like she killed Charlotte. She's gonna fucking kill her!"

"Not if you and I kill her first. But we damn well better figure out just what the hell we're gonna do. If she hears us or sees us, Bella doesn't stand a fucking chance," Jasper said harshly.

I moved closer. Both the Cullens' noses went up in distaste. I was a foot away and I fell down awkwardly. The closer I got, the more the pain in my shoulders subsided.

Jasper kept his hand on Peter's heart. I had to wonder what he was trying to do to him. Whatever it was, I could feel it too, and I was more than willing to get in on the lovin'.

Debbie let out an agonizing wail and we all looked, even Peter. He jerked his body, and we watched Garrett fight to keep her flailing arms still.

She was trying to scratch at the skin on her chest. She still had her bra on, and Garrett had removed his shirt to wipe and clean the blood that stained her skin.

I wondered if Jasper could take her pain away, like he was taking away Peter's. She was being granted a way to live and I had to respect that. I understood it. But I could never condone it completely.

"Just where the fuck is she taking her?" I asked.

When I turned back to look at whoever, Jasper was staring at me. He answered.

"She's taking Bella to Boquillas Canyon in Texas. It's on the border. Maria's the cunt who took her. She wants to kill her like she killed Charlotte. Charlotte used to be Peter's mate."

Peter was looking up at the sky again, and he started going nuts again. "It's her fault. _Charlotte_. She did this." He was shaking his head back and forth, sneering and frowning animatedly. "She did this. You fucking BITCH! You FUCKING bitch! I hate YOU! I HATE YOU!"

He jerked around in Alice's arms, and both Jasper and Alice held him still.

"What does he mean?" I asked. Things were just fucking _weird_.

"Later," Alice muttered.

Jasper spoke firmly to him. "Peter, we've got to get to Boquillas. Alice says that from what she saw there's at least fifteen newborn bastards waiting for Maria down south. I think it's safe to say that Garrett won't be joining us."

Garrett spoke for the first time, and he choked on his words. "I'm taking her home. I can't leave her. I can't leave her, Peter."

Peter's head snapped to Garrett, and he choked a little before he talked. "Bella wouldn't want you to. You stay with her."

He kept his eyes on the sky. They were twitching. His eyes were still black as hell, and the whites were almost gone. There was no distinction between the pupil and the iris. The redness on his lids wasn't fading either. Being closer, it looked like his lids were burned and scarred. It was like someone had tried to brand them shut.

"How're we going in?" Jasper asked him again with intent.

Peter didn't look at him. He just looked at the sky. Sneered at it, too.

"There's no way in. Not for you. I have to go by myself." He looked over at Alice and bit out at her, "Can't you see it?"

"No, I _can't_. I can't see what _we're_ doing." She told him firmly.

"Alice can't see the wolves. They block her vision and she can't see what we're gonna do because Seth is going with us." Jasper told him.

He was right about _that_. There was no way I wasn't.

Peter started shaking his head rapidly in Alice's arms. "No. He can't go. I can't let him. If I get him killed... No, I have to go by myself." he said.

"Peter, you'll both die," Alice told him gently.

"Then we'll both die. It's better than just her!" Peter bit out.

The scary ass empath growled out before he raised his voice a little. "It's not gonna happen, so you can forget about that shit right now. She's just as important to us as you are, so don't even fucking think it."

"Don't you fucking dare try and tell me what I'm gonna do."

Peter honestly looked like he was about to snap up and beat the shit out of him. Jasper was looking at him like he wanted him to try.

I had the distinct feeling there was some familial 'strife' occurring right before my eyes, and I had to wonder who could take the other out. I had to wonder if they had ever even tried.

There was no way I was not going. Charlie was at home and his daughter was in trouble. We probably all were, and there was still a good chance I could die. But I didn't care. She was family and she needed help. There wasn't a decision that had to be made. It was just pure and simple. It was what I was meant to do.

And we were getting no where fast just laying around bitching about who was going and who was not.

"Look, if there's a goddamn chance she's still alive and we can get her out, I'm going with you. Why don't the two of you have your tiff about it later and just figure out how the fuck we're supposed to drop the bomb."

Peter stilled. Instantly. He froze, and his eyes seemed to have to stretch with just how wide they wanted to go.

"Peter?" Jasper said. He was looking at him, perplexed.

Peter lips twitched, and he started smiling. It was the most fucking evil thing I had ever seen in my life. Then he started laughing like a fucking maniac.

He was crazy. He cackled like a fucking lunatic.

There was no fucking hope.

His head fell back and he looked at me, laughing. I was sure I was giving him my best 'What the fuck?' look ever.

He quieted a little, but he was seething and smiling at the same time. "Seth, you're a genius. A FUCKING GENIUS!"

I liked him. I liked him right away.

He might have been a fucking lunatic, and he might have been my worst fucking enemy, but what he loved - what he needed to _survive_ - was someone I cared about too.

Everything happens for a reason. I just didn't know at the time how much this would impact me later down the road.

Alice was looking at me, a grin on her lips.

Jasper jutted his chin out. He and Peter were staring at each other intently. "So how are we doing it? How are we going in?"

"We can't go walking in there. Even I wouldn't get in without getting noticed. They'll be looking in every direction, except one."

He sighed, and he sneered at the sky. His nostrils flared as he glared above him.

"We're going _up_."


	21. Chapter 20 A Slight Shade of Charlotte

Chapter 20: A Slight Shade of Charlotte

**A/N: Thanks for reading. **

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***B*E*L*L*A***

There was a time I gave up, a time when I let the guilt of all the mistakes I had made consume all the fight and will that I had. And I also gave up because I had thought I was dying. It was the _third_ time in my life that I had thought that. You would think that I had learned. _I_ would have thought that I had learned.

They were mistakes that I would have carried with me for the rest of my life because of the choices I had made. The choice to let Seth come and visit; the choice to go left when maybe I should have gone right. But that's the thing, unless you can see the future, you don't know what's right and what's wrong. So it kind of defeats the purpose of learning and enduring when you make those mistakes because you _can't_ see the future and we're always sure to blame ourselves first. It kind of makes you take a step back and realize that not everything is in _your_ control and maybe you're just not completely at fault.

Sometimes it's in someone else's control. Maybe it's our own. Maybe it's our mother's, or our father's or sister's, our brother's, or the man or the woman we love. Maybe it's even God's. Everything happens for a reason.

But it was my choice to have Seth come visit me in Santa Fe, and it was my choice to invite Debbie along to go with us. That was the guilt I had to bear. I had unknowingly but inevitably sentenced them to horrible deaths, and that was why I gave up.

I just didn't realize that giving up would have a detrimental effect on someone else. I broke that bond. I cut through it with the hardest diamond in the universe. One that could not be seen, and could only be felt. And in doing so, it nearly destroyed him.

If I had the strength to do that, then I had the strength to put it back together. And nothing would cut that fucker ever again.

*********Prelude End**********

"_Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams, for when dreams go, life is a barren field, frozen with snow."_

"_Hello?"_

_.._

_.._

_..  
_

"_Who are you?!"_

"_I'm sure if you gave it some thought, you could answer that yourself."_

"_Am I dead?"_

_.._

_..  
_

"_No."_

Deborah Conroy told me something a long time ago. It was shortly after we had met and we were hanging around the club one night after work, just chatting. When she was sixteen, she had tried acid for the first and very _last_ time. She was driving home after the party where she had taken the drug, and the barren road upon which she was traveling disappeared into the earth. She was driving down, down into a pit filled first with blackness, and the road led down to the fiery gates of hell.

When she woke up, or when the drug had worn off enough to give her some sense of coherency, she found herself in the middle of the road, and her car was sitting on a railroad crossing. The horn from an oncoming train was sounding in the distance. It was the last time she ever experimented with drugs again. She thought it was a sign – a sign from God to straighten up. And she did. But she did it for herself.

"_I saw hell, Bell. That was the only wake up call I really needed."_ And she had laughed it off.

I had to wonder now if maybe she really did.

Little did I know that at the time I was succumbing to my delusions, she was experiencing her own unique kind of hell. She was dying but _she_ was still _alive_.

The dreams - the delusions we have when we're faced with adversity or we've suffered some traumatic or self-induced stress - can be considerably fucked up. I spent three hours and some odd minutes on the trip to nowhere questioning whether or not I was dead yet, or whether or not I had just succumbed to a delusional state because my mind had finally had enough.

So when I heard that voice – the strong voice of a woman - I obviously had to ask. Was I dead, or just experiencing a slight shade of crazy?

I'd realize later that it was neither. I'd realize later that I was on my own vision quest, a quest for knowledge that I needed to embrace, a quest for the truth; one that I would need to fulfill when I was awake. I'd also realize that they weren't just my own manifestations. Someone was helping me along the way.

Someone who wasn't supposed to exist anymore.

My dream of falling from the rocket slide was just the beginning. They were vivid and colorful dreams; not a detail would fall away with consciousness and not a word would be forgotten when I would finally wake up.

I was curled up on the bracken of the forest floor in Forks, Washington the day that Edward Cullen left. I could feel the cold and dampness of the night air seeping into my bones. I knew where I was - his parting words the minute before I found myself lying there 'told' me where I was. But it was different this time. I was scared. I was frightened to relive the nightmare again because it always brought back the pain and heartache I had suffered. But I wasn't that girl anymore. At least, I didn't think I was. There was only an echo of the pain and the heartache. I was void of the self-imposing numbness because life was different for me now.

Steel arms lifted me up effortlessly, wrapping under my knees and around my back. A large hand came to rest below my left breast, on my ribs. He was cold, and his grip - his touch - I knew very well. Those were the arms I knew the best.

The only difference was that this time the hand that was resting on my ribs wasn't the hand holding my head down on his shoulder, forcing it to stay there so I couldn't look at him.

And he didn't talk.

They were his arms. They always had been. I just hadn't realized it.

"Peter, what's going on?" I lifted my head up to look at him.

He was wearing the black stocking cap. He knew how much I liked him in that cap. His eyes were the color I liked the best, the color he always had after he fed - startling bright burgundy with a glint of soul behind them. He walked slowly, and I could hear the bracken giving way under his feet. The sodden leaves and needles from the trees feathered across my coat, and his feet didn't trip over the exposed roots in the ground.

He gave me a look like I should know the answer. "What do you mean what's going on? I'm taking you home, Bunny. You're freezing." He smiled, but something was off about it. I remember thinking that. In my own dream, I remember thinking that.

"But you're not supposed to be here," I told him.

He gave me the look again. "I was always supposed to be here, Bella. If I waited for Charlie to find you, who knows? You could have died. You're soaking wet."

I scowled at him a little and thought about it. If this was the way my delusion wanted to play out, I might as well enjoy it.

"This makes absolutely no sense. But you're right. You were supposed to be here."

He chuckled for a moment. "It does make absolutely no sense, doesn't it? Trust me, babe, I've been trying to make sense of it for twenty-one goddamn years, and I doubt she'll ever tell me why she did it. Oh well, it's not like I have any other place I'd rather be anyway," he said softly, nuzzling my face with his. He kissed the tip of my nose before he pulled away.

"Who do you mean?" I asked.

The look again. "Charlotte. Do me a favor...if she tells you, don't ever fucking tell me. I hate that bitch," he said, glaring straight ahead.

I slapped his face only somewhat playfully. "Don't say that. You don't hate her. You loved her."

He scoffed. "Yeah, once upon a time. Trust me, babe," he shrugged his whole upper body, "I have every reason in the world to hate her right now, and that's not going to change any time soon. So just drop it." He threw me a withering look.

"God, you can be such an asshole sometimes. Remind me why I love you again?"

He looked at me and smiled. "You love my sparkling personality…and my sparkly dick."

I giggled. "You _so_ aren't getting laid any time soon."

He laughed. "You've got that right." He sighed and looked at me painfully. "This is gonna affect me, Bella, and not in a good way. Just love me, okay?" He stopped and crouched down to put me back on the forest floor. I could see light through the trees.

"Of course. What are you doing?" I asked. He stayed crouched down, but he put his hands on the sides of my head and pulled me closer so he could kiss my forehead.

"I'm leaving. Charlie will find you in a few minutes." He smiled softly. "Don't worry, I'll be around. I've always been around." He looked melancholy, and something flashed in his eyes.

I felt my chest tighten. My heart thudded loudly and painfully. "Don't go. Stay. You should meet him."

Peter nodded. "I have to go. But I will some day. You can introduce us later." He stood up.

I was frantic. He couldn't leave. He couldn't leave now. I needed him. I needed Peter. He was what I needed to heal. The pain was coming back - I could feel it in my chest. It was a slow, methodical build up of all I had once endured, but it pulled at me this time. It pulled me towards him, and every step he took away made it pulse stronger with the inevitability. He was leaving. He was leaving me just like Edward had.

"Peter, no. Please, please don't go." I started to cry.

"Shh, honey. It's okay. It's not time yet. I'll find you again." He turned to walk away.

"No! It's not fair! Don't I get a say? It's my life!" The cold - the numbness - was pouring back into me in waves. It felt like my heart was going to shatter, like my ribs were going to implode.

"It is your life. It has always been your choice. It just hasn't been his. This was the way it was supposed to be. I showed him that."

He was gone. His words made no sense, but it didn't matter. I couldn't ask him about them. He was gone.

"Peter? Peter!"

His broken voice was on the wind. "I love you, Bella. I always have."

He was gone, and the shattering pain of my heart took all the unneeded effort out of my bones. I sank to the forest floor and curled up, trying to protect what was left. But there was nothing left. I wouldn't survive without him.

I closed my eyes and I fell.

Maybe Deb had been on to something instead of just _on_ something because I felt like I was falling into a pit in the earth. It was cold there. And wet. But as I opened my eyes to see the rush I was feeling, I found that I wasn't falling.

I was standing in a black cave with ebony walls that smelled like must and mold. Water streamed and trickled down the surface, dripping into a puddle somewhere behind me. Light was filtering in from somewhere, hitting the wall up high, but it was still dark.

I felt a pull in my chest, something pulling me forward to an outcropping of rock across from me. It was magnetic, luring me in such a way that I could not stay put. It enticed me, and I took that step.

I was falling down again, down into the water.

My lungs were literally imploding and burning, and filling up with water. I was no longer in the hole, and I instantly recognized the raging dark and murky water to be salty. I knew I had just jumped off the cliff in La Push.

The day I jumped off the cliff at First Beach was a day I thought about often because no one can ever forget the feeling of drowning – that is, if they survive. I was sinking, falling further into the dark abyss. The current was pulling me further and further under, until I gave up the fight and drifted along with it.

Down, down into the dark, where no voice existed to soothe me because it wouldn't be the right voice anyway.

But it was the right picture. All of a sudden he was just there, appearing out of nowhere. And he was naked and floating along in the water, which seemed to bend at his will. It made the darkness below not seem so bad. It didn't surround him like it consumed me.

The light of the sun always made him look more surreal, more angelic and majestic in a way, even when he was just sitting at his drafting table under the skylight at home. In the water, in the light that surrounded his pale body, he looked like a ghost or an angel.

And Peter, when naked, was a glorious sight anyway.

_Hallelujah._

He gave me a knowing look and raised his arm. His thumb went up on his right hand, his arm moved up and down. It was a silent 'up'; and he blew a kiss. Then he winked.

I felt a warm hand wrap around mine, pulling me up.

The water burned headily in my lungs as I laughed at him.

Even then I knew it was a dream. It was kind of too bad it didn't really happen like that.

As vivid and funny as it was, I needed a good laugh at that moment in my life because I remembered how I had gotten there.

Vision number five was one I remembered very well because it was the first time that I ever hugged him.

"It's so nice to finally meet you, Bella."

I pulled away from him to give him a questioning look. I could feel the coolness of the tailgate under my thighs, like it was real. There wasn't anything I didn't feel.

"What do you mean it's nice to finally meet me? We've already met, silly." I smiled at him questioningly. I had no idea why I said it because it was the first time we had talked in great length, but I knew him in my dreams.

He smiled at me softly and rubbed the tops of my thighs with his hands. "Yeah, but you don't know that. And you ain't gonna accept it until the truth stares you in the face. These aren't just dreams, Bella. They're the instances that brought me into direct contact with you, the ones you can remember the most. But you're stubborn. Even your own mother didn't stand a chance in Marcy's bedroom. It's time to wake up and face the facts. You're not dead and you're not crazy," he said harshly.

I withered under his darkening eyes. "How did you know? I didn't tell you about that."

He frowned and then glared at me. "You didn't tell Peter…and I'm not him." His hands left me and he stepped back. His chin lowered as his eyes blackened, and he stared at me formidably.

A cold breeze, the coldest air I have ever felt, blew down my spine and I could not contain the shiver. His jaw was clenched and he shook his head minutely back and forth.

It was not Peter. It was his body and it was his voice, but those were not his eyes. They weren't evil, but they didn't belong to him either. They were apathetic and distant. There was no profound love in them. The air was thick and so very cold. Malevolence seeped into my pores.

_He_ was not Peter.

"Who are you?"

He smiled tightly, but it wasn't his smile. "It's time to wake up. You're in trouble. Tell that bitch I'm almost there. Make the leap, Bella."

The delusions and dreams I had experienced for over three and a half hours ended that very same moment. But I wouldn't forget. They all mattered, but there was one that was in the forefront of my mind the most.

Somehow, some way, it was _him_.

"Who am I? Who are you? Wait, don't answer that. I already know. You're Peter's newest whore. His 'Bella'."

I had been talking in my sleep.

Consciousness seemed to come back on board about the same time I was placed on my feet; and about the same time the thick and heady voice of a rich tenor spoke with a Spanish dialect.

I was lethargic and dizzy, either from the bump I had taken to the head or from the run. He didn't let go of me. His arms were still painfully tight around me in a backwards bear hug. Death radiated out of his cold skin.

I was alive. How long seemed to be the question, but even it was one I really didn't need to hear the answer to. I would die one way or the other.

I was groggy, my vision hazy and doubled. It was hot and very humid wherever the hell I was.

It was dark, almost nearly pitch black, and my eyes had a hard time adjusting. I had no idea how long I had been out. I felt like shit and my throat was dry. My mouth tasted sour and my throat burned with bile. Plus, I smelled something awful.

At some point I had vomited right down the front of my shirt. It explained the nasty taste of stomach acid in my mouth.

"Portia, light a couple of fires. Miguel, tell Julian to keep them upwind. Tell them to keep their eyes open and _off _the girl."

It was the woman's voice; the last one I had heard, the one who had dragged me out of my truck by my hair. She spoke softly, her voice lilting with the bells that came with it.

I was still trying to adjust to the darkness and to the things that surrounded me, and my ears were open to the sounds. A small breeze was blowing in from some direction, but I had no idea which way I was facing.

Three shapes moved in front of me, two of them leaving. The ground beneath me was hard, rock almost, and uneven. My eyes were just slowly adjusting to the area around me and to the blurry Milky Way lighting up the night sky when I was blinded by orange firelight.

I heard water somewhere. It was far away, but I thought I could hear the faint rush of rapid water. A river.

I tried to pull away, wincing from the new light.

"Where you going, girl? There's no place for a whore like you to run." He tightened his grip painfully around my stomach and my chest. My arms were pinned down and his hand was digging in my shoulder.

"Let me go." My throat was parched and my voice cracked. I cried out because it was getting hard to breathe, but very little came out of my throat. The stifling heat in the air wasn't helping. My lungs and my heart felt like they were being crushed.

It wasn't just that. Everything, everything I had seen and experienced before I thought I was dying was coming back to me full force.

Debbie and Seth were dead. The dreams had been a safe haven. The real nightmare was reality.

Visual and graphic memories played again through my mind, and there's no way to accurately describe what it does to your heart. I saw it all again; Debbie's limp and bludgeoned body being thrown by a merciless piece of shit all because he wanted to exhibit a power we all knew he had…just so she could not die quietly…just so she could experience a brand of pain and torture no good person should have to endure.

If I didn't die, it would be there every night, plaguing me worse than anything I had ever had to bear.

And Seth, lying dead in a heap with his soul wrapped in the curse he had had to co-exist with. Seth, who had tried to save us, tried to protect us no matter what I had done. Seth, who had had his whole life still ahead of him and hadn't wanted to be ruled by his genes. Seth, who had had a good heart and had just wanted to _live _because he had had hopes and dreams.

He was gone.

It was going to be devastating. It was going to be devastating all the way around. Sue could never recover from this loss. And Charlie, Garrett, Peter… There was no worse agony.

What killed us would surely kill them. In some way.

My heart felt like it was literally going to explode. And that would be it. There would be nothing left for that bitch to kill, just a shell of a girl already broken.

"Oh, God." I broke. I just _broke_.

"Hold still now. See, she's got dick on the brain, mi amor. I always thought Peter liked his pussy blond…and cold." He chuckled under his breath.

All he had to do was mention his name and the pain took on a different meaning. They might as well have gone ahead and ripped my heart out of my chest. It already felt like it had been.

I'd never get to hold him again. I'd never taste him. I'd never feel him. I'd never get to look in his eyes and know that there was only one place I belonged, and that was with him, wherever he was.

What he had to be going through.

But just his name alone gave me purpose. It uplifted me, and no matter how devastating and horrifying it all really was, it also brought back my will to fight.

But I was too weak, too physically weak to do anything. Mentally, it broke me down and built me up all at the same time.

The hand on the arm that was wrapped around my mid-section slid down to palm me roughly between my legs while lifting me in the air. The hand on the arm wrapped around my shoulders slid off to grab my right breast. He squeezed it hard.

_No._

Bile rose in my throat. "Oh, God."

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. Reality was brutal, and the dread itself was enough to choke me. I knew then that not even half my life's worst experiences could ever compare to dying like this and losing Peter. There was no pain that I could suffer that was worse than this. My heart was bleeding, mortally wounded because there was just no other way to feel.

And this fucker was going rape me…or going to _try_. There would be no way I could fight him off, but I struggled with all my might just the same.

A cold breath sent a chill through my bones, his lips at my ear. "That pussy's anything but cold. Oh, I bet he just _loved_ you..."

"Carlos, let her go. Right _now_." There was just a hint of her lineage in her voice. She spoke almost perfect English.

Carlos. I knew that name, and I knew hers too. He was the ass kissing bastard who was there the day Peter went back for Jasper, and he was the one who helped Maria kill Charlotte.

It would have been so nice had he been human. It would have been so nice to kick him in the balls and watch his agony for touching something that didn't belong to him. It would have been so nice to watch Peter kill him. I would not cringe away from the brutality.

She was exactly as he described; pale, cold, and evil in her own right.

Through the dim firelight that made her skin glow, she looked at me, but the threat was for _him_. I could see the look of expected obedience in her eyes, even if it was for her 'amor'. He was just as disposable as anyone else. That bitch cared about nothing.

Maria.

He stilled in his assault. I could see her. My vision was clearing. If the bitch had snakes in her hair, it wouldn't have shocked me. Any gaze like that and one would think they'd turn to stone. She was smiling a little, but her eyes were full of threat.

That jaw she had was something else. Its structure was well defined, with noticeable joints back by the ears. I pitied the cock that that mouth sucked on. The itty-bitty stump I felt on my backside made me wonder if the rest of his dick had fallen victim at some point.

That was if she was kind enough to suck it. I hated her, and I hated her with conviction.

If there was a Heaven, if there was a way to see this bitch suffer through all the pain and suffering she had ever caused, I wanted to see it. I wanted to watch her die. I wanted to show her through the Gate to Hell.

Maybe this was my hell. Maybe through all my mistakes, this is what I had to go through to get my golden ticket. But a bitch like her could never earn one.

Carlos sighed before he squeezed hard enough that all I could feel was the excruciating pain of my breast, like it was being twisted and ripped off. He dropped me.

I landed on my side, on my hip and my left arm. My head hit the rocky floor and I blacked out for just a moment. My head throbbed with new purpose.

The flash of pain in my hip was subtle but bruising nonetheless. My boob pulsed as my blood flowed, and I unconsciously grabbed it to hold it in my palm for any relief. My head was pulsing, and my eardrums were thudding loudly along with my heart.

"Get my clothes and get her a drink of water."

I sat myself up gingerly, re-orienting myself again. I looked back up at her when I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye. The orange glow was growing, making it easier to see, but my eyes were sensitive to the light.

Carlos was the man with the brown windbreaker and the dirty jeans, the one who had been holding her hand back at the festival. He brought her clothes, handing them to her. His black hair was cut close to his head, his cheeks were sunken in, and I had to wonder if he had astigmatism. His eyes just seemed to float around; he looked at everything; and he sneered at me with full lips. The firelight lit up the shadows on his gaunt and hollow cheeks. He was as skinny as a rail. He flitted away into the darkness after giving me a withering but hungry look.

I looked towards the light. Ten feet away was a stone pyre with a large fire starting to crack and sizzle as dry wood was being thrown in and burned by another one of the males who had been at the festival. Another thirty or so feet farther to the right, higher up on another flat base, was another pyre coming to life. Silhouettes floated around that ring, and sitting down by it were shapes that moved. Low murmurs and low growls drifted in the air.

Reality, dread, and fear like I had never felt before pulsed through my heart and tightened in my throat as I watched Maria slink her way out of her sundress while I took in my surroundings.

I wiped the tears away just so I could shed some more. Crying would get me nowhere though. And this bitch had probably never shed one tear her entire life.

My chances of still being in New Mexico were nil.

_Oh, God. No. No. No. No._

"You know where you are, don't you? I can see it in your face," she said. I didn't look at her, but I could feel her eyes on me.

I didn't answer.

The firelight lit up the Texas side of the canyon, reflecting off the layers of limestone, sand, and mud. The glow reached across to the other side of the abyss, highlighting tortured and twisted spirals of rock that used to be sand. In the distance, across the abyss and on the Mexico side, and lit by starlight alone, were flat and rolling mesas that had been carved by water and lava. There were shadows on the ground, which were either the rare succulent growing out of a crevice or flowering wax plants.

Mexico. Big Bend. Boquillas Canyon. I looked south into Mexico. I had to fight off the feeling of wanting to throw up.

There was a cloud bank miles and miles away. A dark wall cloud swallowed up the stars and caressed the horizon. Heat lightning flashed, but so did storm lightning. I could hear the faint rumble of thunder. A small breeze floated in sporadically from the north, just a slight shade cooler than the air around me.

Peter said it was beautiful down here but he could never appreciate it. He could never come back to it again because of the memories it held. I could understand why.

I could understand what the grand scheme was and what it now meant. All it took was a look at my closer surroundings, and bile rose in my throat once again.

The imploding of my heart squeezed my stomach and twisted my guts into knots, and I wretched. I heaved, and my lungs burned with new purpose. The muscles in my back tightened and ached. I heaved again, throwing up nothing but bile as I twisted to the side.

"I take it that's a yes."

I had noticed the rocks. As I sat myself back up, I faced the grim reality.

I had no doubt that the pyre in which I sat - an almost perfect circular formation - was the very pyre in which Charlotte had met her own demise. And I knew that I would meet mine here too. There were pictographs displayed. It was an old Comanche fire pit.

It had been a place to hide for the raiders of a time so long ago. It was a place where vampires could run amok or sit by the fire because there were no towns around and there was very little life. There were caves below in the canyon wall, places to hide from Rangers of the past.

Peter had told me all about them. Charlotte and he had been through the area before, and she had studied meticulously at the homes for bats. There was no artificial light in the distance. There was no sign of life anywhere. This is where the people who had trekked too far or gotten lost had died.

There was just one missing thing; one missing person who would inevitably seal my fate once he showed his face. And goddamn it all to hell, I didn't want to die.

Debbie was gone, and so was Seth, and I would no doubt live with the guilt for the rest of my life, natural or unnatural. I would be rejected and abhorred by the rest of my family, but I still had a reason to live. I still had Peter.

He could make it okay. He wouldn't be able to heal me, but I'd have him and it would have to be enough. It _would_ be enough. But it wasn't going to happen.

I could not watch that. I could not watch her strip him of everything he was. I could not watch him fall to pieces and feel the pain and horror he'd experienced again. He had worked so hard at keeping it so well contained and keeping himself level headed that the tears and the cries he had shed were enough to bear. The pain he felt when he talked about Charlotte didn't even feel close to an inkling of all the bad things I had experienced. This would devastate him. This would break him down and rip the good out of him. I didn't want to see that. It was terrible to think it, but at that moment I didn't want to _see_ him.

There was only one way out of this hell. There was only one way to throw a wrench into her well-thought out plan. It still meant death.

Maria wasn't shy. Not a cold rock in her body was the least bit shy. She stood naked, taking the time to shake out her dress and the clothes she would be wearing. I caught numerous shadows on her back and on her side. A portion of her back on the left side by her ribcage was discolored and reflective in the glow of the fire. It was misshapen, and I wondered if that was the bite Charlotte had managed to get in before they had ripped her apart. I hoped it was. I hoped to God it was.

She was small; very petite with small hands and feet, but she had a lupine grace about her. And the pale contrast of her skin with her long, black hair made her dangerously beautiful without the scars. She was the perfect embodiment of a predator with a rotted heart.

I jumped when a figure rose out of the darkness of the abyss below. The Rio Grande lay down in the depths. There were rare treks made this time of year - people who would challenge themselves to ride the river down from the Santa Elena Canyon because flood waters would make their way south. It wasn't deep, but it was fast and furious.

I had a passing thought. Its option meant death too…most likely. There was no way out.

The figure that climbed out of the darkness was Carlos, and he blurred forward from the edge not fifteen feet away to plop a bowl in front of me.

I once thought Garrett had the eyes of a snake, and he did, but he wasn't the poisonous kind, so-to-speak. Carlos seemed to rattle in his own fucking skin next to Maria, and he was the type of slithery bastard that made you want to squirm. Garrett was more controlled and docile like a python, ever patient for when it was his turn to strike. Yet, he was the type you could hold and not cringe away from. He was the kind you could appreciate because he was a silent protector _and_ a predator, even though he would bite off more than he could chew. But still, he was gentle in his own right.

Maria turned to him while she put on a tank top that must have been red at one point, or tie-died pink. It was kind of dressy for the desert, made of satin or silk. She was still naked from below the waist.

Bitch needed a trim job.

"Leave us. I want you watching, Carlos. Don't let him get in unseen. If they both come in, they'll be coming in quick. There's no room for error," she told him softly.

Peter was going to come. There was no way he couldn't. He was still a vampire. He was still a survivor of the most gruesome and chaotic times in his life. He was a fighter. But even she didn't know whether Garrett would follow, and I had to wonder myself. I hoped that he wouldn't. I hoped he could find a way to put it behind him.

But I doubted it too.

I was conflicted. In my own chaotic thoughts, I was conflicted. Because there _was_ hope. If he came, and if he came with Garrett, there was always a chance.

I looked over at the fire that was the farthest away and I saw shapes and silhouettes and faces that glowed subtly in the orange light. There were thirteen to be seen. There were still more in the dark. Little murmurs and growls floated to me in the air and chilled my bones. I could not see faces, but I could feel their stares. I could feel their _thirst_. Even my own throat burned with new purpose.

Death waited for all. He was strong, but he wasn't _that_ strong. They were newborns. They were the back up. There was no way out.

"I'm going across to watch the southern flank in case he goes around. Miguel and Portia will be on the ridge. He won't make it in unseen." He smiled at me malevolently.

Carlos stepped forward to slip her some snake tongue and give the crusty, old Mission a caress. I turned away, unable to watch because I felt nauseated enough.

Something was wrong with my head. I either had a slight concussion or I just hadn't acclimated yet after what had probably been a long run. I had to fight off the feeling of wanting to go to sleep, and the throbbing headache I had behind my eyes made it hard to look at any light, not that there was much to begin with.

But I had no time to worry about a fucking headache. The real pain would come later. Hopefully coming close to death by James had built up my tolerance. Maybe I could keep myself from screaming.

For just a moment my mind drifted and I thought about the dreams, the instances in my life altered by grief and despair. But my dreams were always doorways to the things that plagued my past, and sometimes there were glimpses of the present and the future.

"_These aren't just dreams, Bella. They're the instances that brought me into direct contact with you, the ones you can remember the most."_

There was simply no time to think about it. There was no time to reflect on just what it all meant! Time was still on _their_ side.

But the thoughts were there, eating at me slowly, eating at my resolve that they were just delusional dreams of my past. My mind was trying to tell me something, and being awake it was different again.

Or somebody else was. It had not been Peter in my last dream. It had not been him.

I felt the air change when Carlos ghosted away, and I caught his silhouette as he catapulted himself across the canyon. It had to be forty feet or more to the other side. The river…the river was down below. It had to be at least a two hundred foot drop. I watched him until he disappeared into the darkness.

My thoughts however were confirmed. They had the bait they needed to lure Peter in. And it was only a small question in my mind. He had to come, didn't he? He had to try. And if I was already dead, he would at least need to know. He wouldn't walk away. There was no way he could. It was never in his nature to walk away from anything. But he was scared, too, scared of what he would find. But he was not afraid to die. I don't think I could blame him one bit.

I loved him enough to let him go. As ugly as it was too think it, as crippling as it was to feel it, maybe he should just walk away.

Deep down, I knew he wouldn't. It was going to be ugly. It was going to be worse than that. It was going to be horrendous. And oh, how I dreaded it.

They were watching for him, waiting, and this place was a house to the hunters.

While I was glaring at Carlos until he disappeared, Maria was watching me as she slid her jeans on.

"It may be hard to believe from your perspective, but Carlos is a very loving and family-oriented man. I've never been one to keep my family close. I prefer to keep my enemies closer," she said.

She sat down across from me, folding her legs. She really was quite beautiful, and she knew it too. Bitch deserved to have her face bitten off.

I stared her in the face. "So I've heard." I swallowed.

She smiled a laugh. "I bet you have. I bet you already know what a small world on this side of things it really is."

She looked down and lifted the bowl of water, which really had been a bowl at some point. A bowl made of stone. "Here, drink. You're thirsty. I'm not a complete monster, you know." she said quietly, almost sympathetically. But there was humor in her eyes.

I smiled at her in a thankful way right before I knocked the bowl out of her hand, which surprised me that I could really do it. But she hadn't been expecting it.

"No, thanks. If I'm going to die, I'd prefer to do it on an empty stomach. I'd rather go out not pissing or shitting myself, thank you very much. It's not very becoming. But neither is the color pink, at least not on a cold, evil bitch like you."

Maria's lips twisted in fury and she trembled with contained anger. She breathed out of her nose, a rumble low in her chest, and straightened herself out, shaking it off.

She smiled. "You're intelligent. I like that. Figured it all out for yourself, did you? That's quite remarkable." She glared.

I fought the urge to scurry away. She had probably killed hundreds, if not thousands, human or like her. There was no remorse behind those eyes. They were dead, a gateway into the very hell she embraced.

That bitch's heart really was made of stone.

My throat watered headily and I had to swallow back a bit. "Of course I did. You and your pet snake just spelled it out as clear as day. I know more than enough about you that it makes me sick. But how? How did you know? How did you find us?" I had to know. I had to know whether or not it was just a stroke of luck for them to find us.

She smiled again. "It was a stroke of luck. We were making a rare trek through Tucumari yesterday. Carlos was born in the Santo Domingo Pueblo. I found him two years after Peter joined us, working in an orchard outside of Laredo. He used to have a wife and a son. He found an old paper from weeks ago. His great, great grandson, Jose, had been murdered and tossed into the river, so we went and paid our respects for the dead. He's always made sure his family was taken care of. And, well, Carlos has always stood by my side. Like I said, he's a very...'family-oriented' man."

She paused to smile deviously. "We were on our way back to Terlingua when we...'smelled'…your 'werewolf'? It was obvious that he wasn't human. I've heard of them, but I've never seen one before. We really had no idea what he was. And then I heard you talking with your friend about things that humans shouldn't be talking about. And we smelled the wolf on you. And I heard you say his name, and I couldn't believe it. I just couldn't believe the 'luck' of it all! I mean, to find out that Peter is alive and well and he's taken another mate. Well, I was very…shocked. I was so sure that he had fallen into a hole and withered away. You can't imagine how wonderful this is for me." She breathed out, a victorious smile in her dead eyes and in those stone jowls of death.

Bitch was hungry; maybe for blood, or maybe she just needed to feed her need to be cruel and callous.

And I could imagine her shock. I could feel it because it was my own too. It wasn't just a stroke of luck. It was a fucking small world after all.

Jose Vasquez, murdered by supposed gunshot and dumped in the river. Jose Vasquez, who had had ties to a known drug runner by the name of Ricky Delasantos, who was found a week before Jose was found. It was thought that it was a cartel hit, with Ricky and the other two boys skimming profits or a buy that had really gone bad.

I had recognized his picture in the paper. He was one of the boys in the park that day weeks ago when Peter had taken me on a show and tell tour. Peter had killed Ricky the next night, and Garrett had killed the other two. It wasn't just coincidence.

I sat there speechless and in tears. The way fate took a turn was far from awe-inspiring. It was horrifying. There was no way anyone could see this coming. There was no one at fault. It was fate. Had the time been less chaotic, less _insane_, had I seen Garrett and Peter and told them what a big, fucking mistake it was to kill _those_ boys, I might have given Garrett shit for choosing the wrong motherfucker to fill his gut on.

I was crying because she talked of those I loved as if they had no consequence, as if they didn't matter when they mattered to me the most. But I couldn't help but laugh at the insanity of it all. Because I _was_ insane. I was having delusions and dreams that made little sense, and possibly discovering an impossible truth. Plus I had just heard the most fucked up bullshit that could ever occur, and I was sitting in a pit of loss and despair where one good woman had already lost her life.

I laughed and I cried because it was so fucking unbelievable and fucked up at the same time.

It was the _fourth_ time I was close to dying. The third time was always the charm, but I had lucked out and got a freebee. I laughed and I cried. Luck was not on my side. The bitch had it all - time, luck, and reinforcements. How could a root of evil garner so much?

"What's so funny?" she asked, and I glanced at her.

She looked a little disturbed, like my laughter was the last thing she expected. I really had gone insane, but little did I know I was on the right track to pushing her over. And I made that decision somewhere along the line. I wanted to push her over. I wanted to Piss. Her. Off.

She was going to kill me anyway. If she killed me before Peter showed his face, it was a slight shade of better. I wanted her attempt to repeat history to fail in a _big_ way. It would still be devastating for Peter, for the both of us in fact, but I could go out satisfied knowing I had throttled that bitch in some way.

I caught my breath and I tried to calm myself. I was in full hysterics. Thunder rumbled to the south and lightning flashed in the distance, and I looked up to see the storm clouds were closer. They were swallowing the clear sky. It was odd because I could have sworn it was coming from the south while the breeze blew in from the northwest, and it was a little bit cooler.

I also had to consider the fact that she didn't know. They didn't _know._ Both Garrett and Peter could suffer greatly if Carlos and Maria found out. If Carlos was that concerned with his family of the past and present, he would go after Garrett. And maybe so would she. They needed very little reason.

There was always the chance that Garrett and Peter would find some 'way' to survive, some way to live on, especially if they didn't come running into the canyon. But if it meant vengeance, if it kept some will and the reason out of Carlos' and Maria's grasps, then Peter and maybe Garrett would have an advantage, so-to-speak.

If he came, she was going to kill me as soon as he was within sight. There was no doubt about that. There would be no pause to consider. It might kill Peter, but there was the possibility that he could take that bitch down with him. I wouldn't feed her or Carlos' fury. Not with that. And if Garrett found some way to move on, he didn't need the past coming back to bite him one day. Or kill him.

"Nothing...nothing at all. Let's just say it's a small world after all." I looked away from her and down to the floor of the pyre, wiping the tears away from my face and struggling for breath because panic was taking it away.

It's strange the things we think of when turmoil, despair, and desperation slam into you like an oncoming freight train. Because you still have hope. You have to. There's no way to fully accept that you're going to die. You still have hope.

I took a handful of dirt from the pyre and I lay down on my back, putting it in my pocket. I wanted to live, but I needed a fucking miracle. But right then all I could think about was that this was where Charlotte had died.

If God existed and he decided to bless me with one, and if there was a way out of this, I would have a physical representation of Charlotte. It was just dirt, but it was where her life had been extinguished. We all have a place where we began, and we all have a place where we end. It was just dirt, but maybe she was still there.

I could give her a grave. I could bury all the good things in his life, no matter how heartbreaking it was to have lost them.

And if I died, I hoped that he would put me with his family. Maybe he could live. Maybe he could find some way to go on.

It was terrible to think it, but it was thought nonetheless. I didn't want him to. If Heaven existed, I wanted him with me. I didn't see how I could have it without him.

I could feel her eyes on me and her mild shock as I lay down on my back and closed my eyes. I couldn't bear to look at her for another second. My head throbbed behind my eyes, and yelling and screaming at her would just give satisfaction to her desire to see me lose it. I wasn't going to give the bitch the pleasure.

My ponytail was still intact. It was tight on my head and uncomfortable where it was gathered, so I pulled it out and closed my eyes, letting my arms fall lax at my sides and letting my fingers scratch carelessly in the dirt.

"How did you meet him? How are you...not dead? I don't understand."

I said nothing. Right then, the bitch didn't exist. All I wanted to think about was the last time I saw his face, watching me pull out of the garage and wanting to make love again just minutes before. Oh, how I wished that I would have. How I wanted so badly to feel his cool body between my legs as I wrapped him between them. How I needed to feel his arms around me, or feel his hands make my skin tingle when he touched me. How I longed to look into his eyes and see his smile because I knew he was happy. I could look at him and see and feel all his contentment, and know that as each day went by our love would grow a little bit more. The love we shared was above all, and nothing could ever change it or break it. Not even death.

We were just us. We were Peter and Bella.

And all this soulless bitch wanted to do was invade my fantasy because she had none of her own.

I hadn't been looking at her, but she had leaned forward and touched my hand softly. More precisely, she touched my ring with her cold fingers. My arm flew up to try to slap her hand away and she pulled it back.

I glared at her for all it was worth as I sat myself up and moved a little further back. She could not keep the growl contained entirely as she tried to burn me with just her eyes alone.

"Don't. Don't you fucking touch me. You want to kill me, then _fine_. Kill me. But don't you touch me in any other way," I gritted out.

My voice, or what was left of it, still had the strength to speak with conviction, even with my throat being parched. I honestly wish I had had that drink. Pissing all over her didn't seem like such a bad idea.

She smiled deviously and victoriously. "I would say congratulations, but...well, you know." She cocked her head. "Tell me, was your friend going to be your Maid of Honor? How heartbreakingly sad." She tsked. "Do you think he will come? Garrett, that is? Will he come to avenge her death?"

My heart twisted painfully inside my chest and a sob escaped. The truth was, in another reality that really might have been the case.

I could see the hunger, the desire of such a prospect in her mind - someone who would chase her, like Peter. Someone else to play the game. She thrived on it. She needed it like she needed blood.

The wish of my future had been well in place before fate came into play, and I was well aware of what I would become. I was well aware that I would become an enemy to those who truly hated vampires, and 'bloodsucker' was just a derogatory term that I could have been called were that the case. I would have acknowledged it, and I would have accepted it and maybe even said 'thank you'. But this bitch was of the lowest bitter, and all she was doing was fueling my anger through all the heartbreak, through all the loss of life, and I was still becoming angry. It was what she wanted, and it was what I wanted too.

I said nothing. But as I sat there, I knew I was going to do one thing. I was going to make Seth and Peter proud, wherever they were. It was too bad they weren't around to hear it.

She smiled even more smugly than before while trying to look sympathetic. "And poor Peter. Poor, poor, Peter. You should have heard him cry when I killed Charlotte. It was almost enough to break my heart. He was always...weak. He was a _disgrace_," she sneered, trembling. "He'll lose you and be reduced to a blubbering weakling again. Maybe I'll kill him this time. Maybe I'll put him out of his misery. Or maybe I'll just let him rot in hell on earth."

That did it.

She smiled like she would be doing us a favor, but I could see right through it. Through that smile, through the fury she was trying to repress, I could see the anger and the pain she had experienced. She once lost the key, the hammer to victory and the chisel to her stone, cold heart. She had lost a country and she had lost her control over the one thing that could get her anywhere. She lost Jasper. And once upon a time, she might have just as well have killed him herself because at some point he found his own. He found his heart.

"I'm sure nothing will please you more, Maria. But let me ask _you_ a question. Tell me, what does it feel like? What does it feel like to lose your 'mate'? Not just to another woman but to a _man_? I mean, you lost him to a man who didn't even put out." I laughed and watched her boil.

"Shut up." She growled low under her breath.

"Oh, come on," I breathed out, giving her the same faux sympathetic look she had given me. "You can call Peter a disgrace, but I can't tell you the reason you lost Jasper was because of your own greed? Because your pussy just lacked the skill to hold on to his heart and his dick?" I smiled at her, and I watched her eyes go instantly black.

"It's your own fault, you know. If you had loved him instead of the fight, if you had given a shit about his feelings, you might have been able to keep him. I doubt that, though. A bitch like you is incapable of changing for a man, even if it was Jasper. Peter never regretted going back to Monterrey for him. And if love makes him weak and a disgrace in _your_ eyes, you really are nothing more than a heartless, bloodsucking _cunt_."

Death can happen within an instant, and I was sure I was dying.

The fourth time _is_ the charm. At least it should have been.

What was so incredible was I didn't even see it coming. One would have to wonder if she even tried to gauge the punch. I saw her boiling, I saw the fury in her eyes, but I never figured she'd lose control enough to actually do something. I guess maybe she didn't like the word 'cunt' either; but I was only telling her the truth.

Having my leg broken was nothing compared to the pain of having my face smashed. I suppose it was like having a brick smashed against your face. A brick flying a hundred and fifty miles an hour.

I felt the crunch of my nose shattering before my world started to go black. But right before I felt the blow, I could have sworn I saw lightning strike behind her. My ears were full of fluid, though, and I couldn't be sure if I had heard the electric crack.

My nose was the one thing that I was proud to have never broken throughout my clumsy life. The gush of warm blood filling my cavities, however, only confirmed that she must have shattered it.

That _bitch_. It was just another reason to hate the _cunt._

The throbbing and pulsing pain took away my eyesight, and unconsciousness was only throttled for just a moment as she tore my necklace away from my throat and snapped my ring finger while she removed my ring. I wasn't sure if she had managed to snap the thing completely off. The pain was nothing compared to that behind my eyes, deep within the recesses of tissue and bone. The darkness took me quick, and I was sure that I was dead; or would be soon. My throat filled up with blood.

I didn't even have time to say a silent goodbye.

I was a little upset when I woke up.

I had accepted that I had knocked on death's door one too many times. Waking up to an agony I had never experienced before just made me _want_ it. I was human. I wasn't a vampire and I wasn't a superhero. I honestly just wanted to die. My head felt like it was trying to literally explode.

There was only thing, one person, that would make it all worth it; but when you've most likely lost him, when you don't have much hope to cling to, it's just hard not to wish for death, especially when you're dying in the first place.

I cried with the agony once I felt it. But as soon as I was sure I was experiencing the worse kind of pain imaginable, it disappeared within an instant.

There was no pain. And the sound of my heart and the blood it pumped didn't fill my ears anymore. There was no blood blocking my airways.

I heard water dripping and splashing in a puddle. But it wasn't a puddle. I was knee deep in cold water and I was standing. When I opened my eyes, it was obvious I wasn't awake at all. I was back in the cave.

It was cold and it was dark, but light filtered in from somewhere up above. I looked up and there was a hole carved into the dirt and stone, about four feet in diameter. Daylight filtered in and reflected off the ebony stone in the room. Water was dripping from the walls of the tunnel down into the pit about fifteen to twenty feet above the ceiling.

Light reflected on the wall in front of me, which was wet with condensation, and I could see a worm wiggling out of a dirt crevice.

As I looked around in the darkness, trying to see all that I could see, I listened. I had a feeling the structure was large and circular.

Maybe not a cave.

Maybe a well. Or an old cistern.

But there's a difference between dreaming and being awake. And I felt awake. Everything was so clear, so vivid. The sounds of the water dripping, the water on my legs… It felt so _real._

My eyes adjusted even more to the darkness, and I could see even better. The small outcropping of black limestone that grew out of the wall was in front of me.

I was suddenly very scared. I was frightened to death, afraid because the _pull_ was back. But it wasn't the same as before. It wasn't just a pull at my chest; it was yanking and grabbing at me. All my nerves seemed to want to give in to some unseen gravitational force within that rock.

It was as if it was speaking silently to my soul to 'step closer' and 'touch'.

It was magnetic in a way, and the six foot space between was electric. It seemed to make every cell in my body hum.

I was afraid of what would happen if I did because I was afraid I'd fall through again, into the dark abyss. But I was also petrified beyond comprehension because it enticed me in a way nothing ever had. Not even the effect Peter had on me was this strong.

And I wondered if I touched it, would it wrap my soul into a blanket from which I'd never want to leave the warmth? It was like it held the key to perpetual happiness. At least, it felt that way. I didn't know why I thought that, but something deep inside me told me this was more than just a rock.

It was a foundation.

A beginning.

And I did not want that. I didn't want any more than the complacency and the love that I had found with Peter. It was all that I needed to be happy because if there was a mate for my soul, I believed him to be it. If I touched that rock, I had a feeling I'd never let go.

I was scared, I was terrified, and I was cold. It might have been a dream, and maybe I was supposed to touch it, but I didn't want to; and I didn't want to fall when I stepped towards it. It wasn't just the eeriness of the rock, it was the entire place. The walls and the water seemed thick, and the entire well just seemed to be a house to every malignant and negative emotion that could ever be experienced.

I just stood there.

In a way, it was also a calm fortitude that I so desperately needed because the outside world - the one where I was awake - was filled with chaos and devils that wanted to strip my body of its soul and kill those that I loved.

Maybe this was somewhere in between. Maybe I was really dead.

"You're not dead, but you should be."

Frigid air that chilled the marrow in every bone in my body blew by my face. I was not alone. My heart felt like it was floating inside my chest, and movement out of the left corner of my eye startled me at the same time the voice spoke.

It was the voice that spoke to me in the darkness when I was asleep - feminine by its own right, articulate and strong. It caressed my ears like feathers.

More light seemed to filter in as I turned my head to look for the movement that had startled me, and though it was still dark, I could see her face as plain as day.

There wasn't a doubt in my mind that the woman before me, who stood a couple of inches taller and was so real that I could touch her, was Charlotte Osterhoudt.

Charlotte Fischer.

"You're Charlotte. Charlotte Fischer."

She looked quite serious, but the corners of her lips turned up. "Thank you for that acknowledgment."

"Oh, my God." I swallowed. Even though she had said I wasn't, I couldn't be sure that I wasn't dead…or at least dreaming.

She frowned. She was irritated, which was not a good thing because malevolence surrounded her, and me right along with her. The air was thick and my heart felt like it was drowning.

"You're not dead, you're not dreaming, and you're _not_ insane," she gritted out. "But you will be if you don't accept the facts and grow up. You're in trouble, and if you don't listen to me, you will die. You're running out of charms."

Whatever she said just went in one ear and out the other for the most part. I was looking at the best of both worlds and it was awe-inspiring. She was human _and_ vampire. Her eyes were cornflower blue and tears escaped at the corners, yet she was as pale and deadly as any other formidable predator. Her pale, blond hair flowed like silk and her skin sparkled subtly in the light coming from above. She had the most perfectly arched eyebrows and full lips. She looked like the girl in the picture, but she wasn't the same woman either.

She looked at me as if she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders and she was worried. I could feel it, both her burden and her worry. It squeezed my own heart.

"If I'm not dead and I'm not dreaming, what am I? Where am I? And more importantly, how am I talking to _you_?" I asked shakily.

In an odd sort of way, I felt attracted to her - not in a romantic way, but I wanted to touch her, hold her hand, or just embrace her.

I looked down at the water, trying to figure out why. All of a sudden, I was embarrassed. But she made a little noise, both a sigh and a groan. When I looked back up, she was the one who looked embarrassed. Her cheeks were flushed.

She shook her head, shaking it off.

"In Boquillas, you're unconscious. Here, you are awake. Don't ask me to explain because I can't. You'll still trying to pass it off as some delusion, but maybe it's in your best interests to listen to them. All your life, Bella, your dreams have tried to show you the right direction or give you a glimpse of the future. You've always taken them into account and you've always given them some thought. Now it's like none of it matters!" she said harshly.

My heart plummeted and my blood seemed to thicken. My heart felt like it had to work hard to pump it through my arteries.

"I don't understand." My voice cracked, but my throat wasn't dry. Here, in this place, I wasn't thirsty.

And I didn't. I didn't understand. What I did know was that I felt like I was going to physically fall apart because she seemed to look down on me. And for the first time in my life - my life with Peter - I felt insufficient. Standing next to her, I felt like I could never measure up.

She laughed, but it was in somewhat disbelief. "You don't understand because you refuse to acknowledge the truth. Or you _ignore_ it. And you don't _question_ it. I'm talking about _Peter_, Bella. After everything you've gone through, how could you be so stupid?! My God! He's fucked up more times than I can even count. You know he's been hiding something and you _still_ don't confront him on it because you're _afraid_. You're mother taught you better than that. _Life_ has taught you better than that."

I grew angry. Instantly, any inadequacy fell away and I wasn't talking to an immortal of a different nature anymore, I was talking to someone who was sticking her nose where it didn't fucking belong. It didn't belong because I deemed it that way.

I didn't need the goddamn dead interfering with my life. I had enough fucking trouble with the living. Or the half dead.

She flinched as if someone had slapped her.

"Don't tell me I'm stupid. I put my faith in _him_. He's not a goddamn child who doesn't know right from wrong. He's a grown fucking man, and I'm not a little girl. I've watched him nearly break in two because of some goddamn secret he's still holding on to, and I _don't_ care what it is. I cannot _breathe_ without him. I cannot _live_ without him. I'm not afraid of the _truth_. I'm more afraid of what the _truth_ will do to _him_. Don't tell me I'm stupid. My God...In all the conversations we ever had about you, he never told me you were such a bitch," I choked.

That was when it hit me. That was when I realized I was indeed talking to a ghost.

Or…not a ghost. I was having an argument with an angel.

She was too beautiful and she was not an apparition. And the reason it hit me was because of Peter. She had impacted his life so much that even now, after twenty-one years, he couldn't let the past go. And why would that be if she hadn't been affecting him like she was affecting me at that very moment?

She was fucking haunting him. I was sure of it. Bitch just couldn't die and let him live in peace.

Charlotte laughed and looked down to the water. "I guess that's one way to look at it, though I'm afraid it goes much deeper than that. You're not stupid, Bella, but sometimes you just don't think about the things you should think about," she said remorsefully.

She could hear me. She could read my mind, but I didn't give it much thought. I was too consumed with the knowledge that I now had to face, what he had been trying to tell me all along but didn't know how to.

She was as present in his life now as she had been when she was alive. How could he live with that and not be affected? How could he not resent it? He had never be able to let the past go completely because his past was his present. He was no longer angry because she had died; he was angry and resentful because she wouldn't go _away_.

I had to face some facts alright. I had to face the fact that the afterlife existed, which was wondrous and miraculous in _so_ many ways, yet inconceivable at the same time.

And if _she_ existed, then I really had felt and heard my own mother.

I was still reeling from the pang to the heart after Charlotte told me my mom had taught me better. But I was reeling even more from the thought of him still carrying the burden deep inside him, even after he knew something had happened at Marcy's. He _knew_ and he didn't say anything.

I didn't know how to feel about that.

"You're close. But you're still just a little off track." There were tears in her eyes and she just looked pitiful.

I looked away, to watch her dress float on the water. A black dress, long in length, and it gathered at the waist and dipped low in the front. Long sleeves. Not something you'd expect to find an angel wearing.

I felt a pulse coming from the outcropping of rock and I looked towards it. It was still beckoning me to come closer and touch it.

"What are you doing to him?" I asked, appalled. I didn't look at her. The rock was humming, and it literally felt like every molecule in my body was about to be yanked towards it.

"It's not what I'm doing. It's what I _did_."

I looked at her and my heart fell. It literally fell into the soles of my feet. There was so much remorse in her face that it was impossible not to feel it. And I _did_ feel it. It seeped from her and I was soaking it in.

I could feel everything she felt and vice versa. But she could read my mind. I couldn't read hers. In some way - some _unique_ way - I was tied to her.

"It's because I carried you down before you were born. You feel what's in my heart because I carried your soul to your mother."

My heart did something that I was incapable of describing. It seemed like it grew within my chest, but I didn't know what to say. I just didn't know what to say.

She carried my…soul?

Lightning struck far away and somewhere above the sound of thunder echoed through the cavern. She looked up for a moment and she was nervous. She shuddered and I shuddered with her.

Something was happening. Outside in the real world, something was happening. I was sure of it.

She looked at me pointedly. "Listen to me, Bella. We don't have a lot of time. Do you remember what Peter told you about what happened two months after Jasper and Alice left him on the hunt, after I died, that night up in Sandia? Do you remember?" she asked with desperation.

Of course I remembered.

"He had an epiphany. He said he knew you wouldn't want him to give up and quit living. You wouldn't want him..."

I hadn't remembered it all, not until that very moment.

"_...I grieved for my wife. I knew that...that if heaven existed, she would always be with me somehow. She'd be angry with me for just giving up, for just...becoming the very thing we'd escaped from. For being a monster. Especially when we have hearts…and souls…and care for one another."_

I had never given it much thought until that moment because his statement had been one of closure.

But it had been a lie. There had been no closure.

Her smile was bittersweet. "Yes, but he wasn't kidding when he told you he fell down into a hole. You have to think about Peter, Bella. He's a strong man, but he's not _that _strong. Do you honestly think he could pull himself together after that just because he knew that's what I wanted? Peter's love is a remarkable thing because he had never given it easily, not after everything he experienced as a child. It doesn't take an unbreakable bond to keep a man from feeling an endless love for another. I'm proof of that. But if he loses _you_, if he loses you _now_, it _will_ kill him," she said firmly.

The rock hummed and I wavered on my feet.

The key to perpetual happiness lay in that rock. The key to _my_ perpetual happiness.

Peter.

This just wasn't any hole. This was _his_ hole. Something had happened here; something miraculous and wondrous and awful. Something inconceivable, like this woman before me.

Something _she_ did.

Charlotte was watching me guardedly.

"What did you do to him?"

Her chin lowered and she looked into my soul. "I gave him _you_. I gave him something to think about. I gave him the sight to see how you lived, how you loved, how you suffered, and how _you_ persevered. I gave him two years to...cool down. I gave him time to find it within himself to appreciate the life and the hand he had been dealt with because we _all_ struggle. We all suffer. When he crawled out of here, he was already on the path to truth. It was always his decision to go after you. He fell in love with you and everything you'd become all because I gave him something to dream about. I gave him someone else to look after. And the thing is, Bella, he didn't want to accept it because it was a _dream_. Just like you won't. Not yet anyway," she ended softly.

She gave him…me? She didn't give him me. _I_ gave him me.

"Yes, _you_ did. But I gave him a _way._ I gave him a _gift_. I gave him the _sight_. Much like I am giving you now."

What was one supposed to think after hearing something like that? It was impossible.

But I was standing here and talking to his dead wife, who happened to be an angel and had carried my soul down to my mother.

It all...just didn't make sense. It wasn't supposed to.

"What? You did what? He..." I didn't even know what to say.

She stepped forward until she was directly in front of me. She was frightened and worried.

She wiped away her tears and palmed my cheeks tenderly in her hands, wiping away mine. Her hands were warm. "He couldn't acknowledge it until he saw you. And when he did, his entire life changed. It's not a bond any _God_ created. He did that _himself_. He found his humanity again. He found his ability to love again; to love like he had never loved before. All because of you. Peter created his _own_ life with you, his _own_ future. Everything he worked for, Bella, was because of you. I didn't give him the sight to see that. That was all _him_. He had faith and hope before he ever crawled out of here. He had _you_."

The truth. The truth was unconscionable. Inconceivable. Appalling. Life-altering. Miraculous.

It was _him_. It was Peter who had carried me out of the forest. It was Peter who had caught me on the rocket slide.

I was numb, unable to think about the possibility. I was unable to think about what it all meant.

Charlotte shushed me silently with her lips. I felt her deep concern. "You never asked him the date, Bella. The day I died. I died on September 13, 1987, one hour before you were born," she whispered, nodding minutely and sighing when she was finished.

I broke down. "Oh, my God..."

She gave me a shake, holding my face more firmly. She was irritated. There was obviously more to tell, but there wasn't time; time for what, I didn't know. And I honestly didn't care. It was impossible to soak this all in and think about it rationally all at once. I didn't know _what_ to think. I didn't know what to _feel_.

"He's relied on _me_ when he has needed to rely on himself. Because you were his _gift_. And I did give him a gift, to a point. He needed to experience falling in love with you all over again. He needed to _feel_ it and _love_ it and let it grow into what it is now. And I gave you a gift, too. I gave you the ability to feel him like no other one can. Because your love has always been strong, no matter who it was you loved. But he still needed to learn a few things, and he needed to be himself. You wouldn't have loved him like you do now, not with the preconceived ideas he had. Your fate has always been _your_ choice. I wish he would have realized that earlier," she ended softly, sobbing.

She wiped away my tears so I could see her before she let go of my face. Maliciousness poured into me and I struggled for air.

She spoke strongly. She spoke with conviction. She spoke with hate. "I altered it. I changed the future because he still deserves to have it all. And you both will have it all, but he left some things unfinished. Some things were left...untied and unsettled. I altered it because I'm a selfish bitch and I want vindication. I _want_ to be avenged. I didn't want to _die_. I never wanted to give him up, but I did. Because I love him. And I love _you_."

There were so many questions and so many thoughts going through my mind that I didn't know what to ask or what to say!

Until she said that.

Because none of it would have mattered in the long run, not if she had fucked with our fate. Not if this was all real. And if she had fucked with fate, if she was single-handedly responsible for changing it when she obviously had the power, then _she_ was the one who had killed Seth and Debbie.

I stepped back away from her. "You're telling me that...he's been in my life since I was born? That he...saw my life? You're telling me you 'changed' it? You changed what?!"

She looked at me guardedly, but there was no remorse. "This and that. But I also gave him Delasantos."

It took a moment for it to register.

"Oh, My GOD! _You_ did this?! Seth and Debbie are DEAD! They're DEAD!"

She sobbed and just looked at me for a moment. She was conflicted.

"Seth and Debbie are right where they need to be, you can believe that. _You_ made your own decisions, Bella. I didn't make them for you," she said apathetically. "Your decisions have always been your own, just like Peter's have been. I've just given you both the prompts."

I glared at her, and she seemed to want to take a step back. "You mean you've set the triggers. You've given us the triggers to pull, but we're the ones in front of the barrel, Charlotte! All because what? You want Maria to die?! Tell me, how is _she_ going to die when she's got a goddamn army waiting for him to come walking in?! I don't want to die! I don't want Peter to die! Oh, GOD! What did you do?"

Yet I was going to die anyway. In some way. Even if Maria didn't take us down, I was handing over my heartbeat and my right to bear children.

I was utterly conflicted. This was lunacy. This was insanity. I was talking to an angel who had just told me that the man I loved, the man I was going to marry, the man I was planning on spending eternity with because he was a vampire and he was going to make me like him and we were going to slaughter all the evil doers in humanity while we built our own little place in the world as a loving couple had been and _has_ played an active, key role throughout my entire life.

At what point did I lose my goddamn head, I'll never figure out. Did I understand it all? Most definitely not. Did I believe in it?

I wasn't sure.

The rock pulsed. The pull was becoming too much to bear. Thunder sounded from up above. The storm was closer.

Charlotte was looking rather nervously up to the ceiling of the pit. She was breathing heavily, and I could tell that she was even more worried than before. "It's almost time," she seemed to say to herself.

She looked at me and spoke emphatically. "You're not going to die and neither will Peter, if you listen to me. You're going to wake up and you're going to think you were dreaming, once again. What you take out of this depends on you. You want the proof? You want to see it with your own two eyes? You'll know how to do that when it's time. You've already thought about how to get out of this mess; you came up with two alternatives. One of them is obviously no good anymore. I _suggest_ you go with the second, but only when it's time."

The two ways I could thwart Maria's plan. One I had barely acknowledged because it meant taking my own life. The other was to piss her off, and I had already managed to do that, which was why I was in that goddamn hole in the first place.

And it was a cursed place. If it was all real, if it all really did happen, how could he not look at it as a curse?

He loved me like no one else could, but he had committed the greatest sin there ever was. He had kept the truth from me. It wasn't the first time, but this...this was _unreal_.

I just couldn't acknowledge it.

No matter what she said, I was sure that I was crazy. How could I not be?

When it was 'time'… But there was no time. Time was not on our side.

"Time hasn't been on _our _side, it's been on theirs! You want me to _kill_ myself?! How the fuck does that help?! It ends it all!" I was way past just crying, and my heart was already past the point where it could ever beat normally again. Because it was broken.

My entire world was filled with pain, with an ugly and miraculous truth that was devastating for us all.

Maybe there really was no reason to go on.

"Is it a possibility? Yes. But I'm not asking you to kill yourself. I'm asking you to _jump_. You've done it before, Bella, and whether you believe it or not, the outcome was grand. Make the leap, Bella, and have faith that everything will be alright. Time _isn't _on their side. It's on _ours_. And he's coming. He's coming _big._" She seemed morbidly excited. "He's going to wreak holy havoc because there is _nothing_ he wouldn't do for you. Have faith. Believe in it, Bella, even if you don't have all the answers. It's your choice. It always has been. I can't make you do it." She wiped the new tears away. Her remorse was overpowering.

I felt like I had every reason to hate her, yet I couldn't.

The rock throbbed with inevitability. My foot moved towards it involuntarily and I pulled it back.

When I turned back to her, she was staring at me, gauging me.

"What are you afraid of? The truth?" she asked.

"I fell the last time. Or I jumped. Off the…"

I thought of my earlier delusions and their significance now.

"Was he there? Was he there that day?"

She looked down and to the right, smiling a little. "You'll find all the answers in time." She was holding something back.

"Why not just tell me?!"

"Because you need to find the truth for yourself. You still have doubt! Touch it, Bella. Maybe you'll find some truths on your own," she said firmly.

The rock pulled me closer. Or I just gave up. Or maybe she even stripped me of my will to stay away.

I waded closer, the water grew colder and deeper, until it hit my upper thighs and soaked through my shorts. The outcropping was about five feet in length and about three feet wide. Every molecule in my body seemed to pulsate with the hum, and there wasn't a desire I had ever experienced that was stronger than the need to 'touch' that rock.

And I did. I lay my palm on its slick and cool surface.

And I saw a monster.

It was a green field just below a mountain with melting snowcaps. The sky was blue and the grass swayed in the breeze.

There was a man who stumbled out of the tree line, falling down on the ground like he was weak. He had on a thick, brown button down shirt and a pair of jeans, both of which seemed to hang off him because he was emaciated.

His clothes were muddied and caked with dirt and black dust. His shirt hung loosely around his neck and collarbones because it was unbuttoned, and they stood out sharply. The bones in his hands and wrists protruded largely. His cheeks were sullen, darkened by the loss of muscle and tissue. His hair was dark and filled with grime and dirt.

He was too weak to walk; and as pale as than the snow on the mountains. He did not shine in the sunlight. There was barely the hint of a glimmer. His skin did not look honed or polished. He was withering away.

Slowly but surely, with arms that seemed to rattle from the weight they had to bear and legs that had to carry a ton just because of the purpose he was seeking, he stood himself up. His eyes were completely black, the sockets sunken in and dark.

When I saw his eyes, I knew. There was life in them, but they had seen trouble. They had seen grief like no one else had. But there was hope in them. It seemed to take all the ugly away and he was _not_ a monster.

He was thirsty. Peter was thirsty. How long had he gone without feeding?

The weight of the pull was still there and it seemed to pull me to him. It was as if I was attached to him by thousands of steel chains or wires, and there wasn't anything I wouldn't do for him. He was my salvation. He was the very air I needed to breathe. Through all the dirt and grime I could smell him, and his scent was even more potent. Oranges and vanilla. Lilacs and…

Freesia. It was freesia.

I looked at that man and I could see his determination. He would not fail. He didn't know how. He couldn't live with himself if he did.

There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for me. There was nothing I wouldn't do for him.

As quickly as the vision began, it was gone. And I cried. Oh, how I cried. There was so much pain and so much grief and despair that he had had to experience, and I really didn't know if I could ever comprehend it all with the knowledge I had now - which wasn't a whole lot, but it was the basis of discovery. It was the road to the truth.

"What did you do to him?" I cried, unable to look at her.

I think at that moment I really did hate her.

I looked down at the rock. Light from above made the surface visible, and there were dirt and grime covering it. I felt a ridge just under the fingertip of my middle finger and I wiped the dirt. It was caked on. I puddled water in my hand to wash at it.

On that rock, scratched sloppily into its surface by probably his finger, was my name. He had been weak. He had been starving.

Bella.

"I broke him down. You built him back up. He's a better man now, more human than when he really was. Everything I've done, I've done for the both of you. I know it doesn't seem that way. And it's okay to hate me. But I do love you." She broke down.

My turmoil was enough. I didn't need hers, too. I was so sick of this 'you, you, you' business. I didn't do anything! I just loved him.

I hated her because of what she had done to him, but I could also somewhat understand why she had done it. And I knew she was trying to show me the way, the way out of all of this. Because I could feel her love, and it was the only thing that seemed to be easing my broken heart. It blanketed my soul in reassurance, comfort, and love, and I couldn't help but return it.

Out there in the real world was a man who had struggled like no other man had. It was hard to look at it without wonder. It was painful to think about everything he had had to go through. He was there, catching me from a fall off a slide. He was there, picking me up off the ground when all hope was lost. How much had he seen? Just what had he seen?

I was incapable of too much thought, numb to feeling anything but my horror and disbelief. I didn't want to hear anymore, but I needed to. I needed my eyes wide open because you couldn't even trust an angel. She was telling me to jump off a cliff, for Christ's sake, and have 'faith'. Faith that the riverbed would break my fall?

Cold air blew by my hair; air colder than that which was in the room already. The rock no longer pulled or hummed, but I could still feel the gravitational force and it lifted my heart. It literally seemed to want to lift it out of the room, through the rock, and into real world.

But the cold air was electric. It made my skin prick, and I shuddered.

I was not alone. And it wasn't Charlotte.

When she laid her warm hand on my shoulder, it only made the love I already felt pouring out of her that much more intense.

I always recognized her touch. How could one ever forget their mother's?

I was looking at Charlotte through tears and shock. Her face was all bunched up, trying to keep from letting herself cry. Her hand was covering her mouth. Happiness, although bittersweet, poured from her.

She nodded at me animatedly. "You should say goodbye. It'll be the last time," she sobbed brokenly.

"So should you."

It was her.

When I turned around she was there. It was _her_. It was my mother. Her hair was short, and she looked just as I remembered when she was healthy, with vitality and excitement in her eyes. Her skin seemed to glow with youth. Her eyes were puffy because she had been crying, but she was a younger version of herself. I wasn't looking at a woman in her forties - I was looking at her when she was _thirty_. I was looking in a mirror because even I could see it now. I looked like her.

My mother in Heaven was thirty years old.

I knew she was real.

"Mom?...Mom?" I looked at her. All over. Her black dress floated on top of the water. It was the same as Charlotte's.

She smiled at me through her tears and touched me, and then pulled me into her arms. "Oh, Bella."

I cried. I cried because my mother was holding me. I felt her hands smoothing my hair, and I felt Charlotte doing the same. And for the first time, it didn't feel like my heart was about to break. It felt stronger. It was growing inside my chest, while the pull was yanking me up. And the room, the well, it didn't feel like it was swimming in a deluge of malevolence and grief anymore. It flowed with purpose, with love, with tenderness, and boundless happiness and comfort.

My tears and snot were staining her dress, which was made out of the finest material I had no name for. I pulled back because I just wanted to look at her. I wanted to remember her like this. She wasn't dying, she wasn't withering away on some hospital bed. She was _alive_.

"I'm ruining your pretty dress."

She smiled sinfully and her eyes lit with fire. "Trust me, when the three of us get a hold of that bitch and drag her down to hell, it'll get ruined enough. We have more." She smiled.

"Renee..." Charlotte warned, but she sounded sort of bored, like she expected my mother to say the worst.

Renee just ignored her and she put her hands on my shoulders, giving me a good shake. "Listen to me, Bella. _Daughter_. You have to jump. But _you_ have to do it. If you love him enough to want to keep him forever, which you do, then you have to make the choice. We won't let you die. We'll be there, Bella, and Peter's coming. Trust her. Trust Charlotte."

I was suddenly very afraid of my own mother. Malevolence filled the room again, but I knew it wasn't for me. And I knew I could trust my mother.

"The three of you?" I was listening to every word she said, and that was the only thing that made no sense - 'The _three_ of us'. Was she talking about...God?

She laughed under her breath and her eyes filled with love. She was holding something back. "No. But she likes to play God. You'll know when it's time. Say goodbye, baby. You have to go back."

I didn't want to go. Not now. I wanted more time. "No. No, not yet."

Charlotte was there, palming my cheek and turning my face so I would look at her.

Tears stained her face. "You have to. I'm sorry, Bella. I'm so sorry to put you through this. Don't hate me. I didn't just do this all for me, or for him, I did this for all of us. Don't hate me. And I'm not saying goodbye just yet. Look at your mother."

I looked at my mother, and pain was all I could feel. The throbbing in my head was back and my eyes wanted to close. I struggled to keep them open. Darkness was swallowing me.

Her voice seemed further and further away. "You'll know when it's time. Say it, Bella. Say goodbye."

"Mom, no! No, Mom!"

They were gone. The room was gone and I was in the dark again.

"Goodbye."

When I tried to open my eyes, I couldn't.

I had a headache of epic proportions right in the frontal lobe of my brain. I could feel tears running down my temples and I could taste the heady iron in my blood. My throat was filled with it, and I coughed and sputtered it up just so I could take a breath.

My nose seemed to twitch at the bridge and it throbbed deep inside my head. I couldn't breathe through it, and it even felt crooked.

Lighting crashed somewhere nearby. Thunder sounded almost instantly with it. It made my ears ring.

"Good. You're awake. Make sure you stay that way," the bitch's bell voice chimed. She didn't sound happy. In fact, she sounded a little nervous.

Pain radiated through my left arm and I lifted it up from the ground to lay my hand on my stomach. I was flat on my back and probably still in the pit, but opening my eyes seemed nearly impossible. It was as if my eyelids were glued down or caked with sleep or dry tears that made them stick together, and I could feel the swelling.

I ran my fingers from my right hand over my left. My ring was gone, but my finger was still there. _That_ was a plus. It was broken; I could feel my nerves throbbing around it; but it wasn't as bad as the agony in my head and behind my eyes. I touched my face. While the left side was painful, it wasn't as bad as the right. I was pretty sure my cheekbone was fractured, and maybe my eye socket. I was swelling.

But I found I could overlook it all. I could think around the pain, and more importantly, I could _feel. _And every speck of flesh and bone inside me, every part of my being, especially that which lay in my heart, was being pulled again. And the very thing I was being pulled toward was somewhere up above.

Somewhere in the sky. In the heavens. And I wondered if I could fly because I already felt like I was floating.

I was able to pry my eyelids apart with my fingers after I wiped and picked at the corners for a minute. I could see, but everything was hazy and dark. My right eye wouldn't open all the way.

Lightning flashed through the sky. The storm that had been moving in was now here at the canyon. I could make out the outline of black and formidable low clouds above me, and billowing white and gray above them when the lightning lit up the sky; heat lightning and storm lightning.

God was putting on a show. Or someone was.

I was awake, and I remembered everything. It was the most vivid dream of my entire life, and though I was tempted to slip back into slumber, I could not. Because it was real. It _did_ happen.

My shorts were wet.

The air around me was hot and humid, but the breeze was cool and it swirled over my face. The warmth actually felt good because I hadn't realized I had been so cold. My skin was cool to the touch.

I didn't need to make a choice. I had made it when I felt the pull. It was really all the proof I needed.

And I believed. I had faith. Logically, it would have been the worst decision in the world to make. It was lunacy personified.

But Peter always said I was a little fucking crazy. That's just the way my life had been.

There was no choice left to make, yet I was conflicted in so many ways because I was scared to death. I was scared because I didn't want it all to be _just_ a delusion, and maybe I had wet my pants after all. I was scared because of what it all meant if it was the truth. If it was _all_ real. If he had been a part of my life - my _entire_ life - in such a grand way.

My bladder felt full.

I had to have hope. I prayed that it was all real. And if it wasn't, and if I made that jump and the only thing I succeeded at was dying, then I would have still thwarted Maria's plan.

There was nothing to do but just wait. Wait for a sign. I begged God that it would come.

I started to sit myself up. Every bone in my body seemed to protest. She had either kicked the shit out of me while I was out, or I was finally starting to feel the effects of whiplash from crashing my truck head on with a vampire moving at full speed.

My heart twisted inside my chest because I thought about Debbie and Seth. It was calm and it was beating its normal rhythm at first, but it was coming to life again. They were still gone. Still dead.

Blood gushed out of my nose when I was completely up. I gagged on it, but I couldn't taste it that much. My hand still flew up automatically, though, to catch it and wipe it away.

The lightning was beautiful. It streaked across the sky all around me. I was still in the pit, and I looked straight out in front of me. Light from the show in the sky lit up the Mexico side and a part of the opposite canyon wall. Maria was standing to my left, close to the fire, about ten feet away. There was another female vampire standing about five feet away from her. In fact, most of them were standing down by the other pit. More wood had been thrown in it, and the flames were licking furiously at the wind.

They were all looking, all looking out across the canyon to the Mexico side and watching the storm. The air was charged and filled with malice.

The wind picked up a little, and then a little more, until it was almost howling through the landscape and through the dark abyss below.

Maria looked at me. Her hair was blowing in the wind. She looked angry and nervous. "You were talking in your sleep. About your mother. Is she dead, Bella?"

I sat there for a moment, and I realized that all I could feel was relief. My mother…my mother was an _angel_. My mother was _happy_.

And she was going to carry this bitch down to hell.

"Yeah. She's an angel, you know. Where's yours? Oh, wait. You don't have to answer that. Like mother, like daughter. She's probably down on her knees right now, sucking Beelzebub's dick," I mumbled.

I had no time for her shit.

She blurred in front of me and crouched down, growling. "I suggest shutting your mouth unless you want me to ruin the other side of your face, not that you'll be needing it."

"Yeah, go fuck yourself, you bitch." The pain in my head was fierce and unrelenting. The light show was all too beautiful, but it stung.

"Tell me, Bella. Does Peter love you like you love him? I have to wonder because he's not here yet." She was worried.

I thought about my earlier dream, the one with Peter and when I first held him. And that's when it clicked. It hadn't been him. It had been Charlotte.

"_He's coming. And he's coming _big_."_

"_We'll be there, Bella, and Peter's coming."_

That was the one that really counted.

"_Nothing can ever happen to you. If something ever does, that'll be the day it'll rain fucking blood."_

He had said that on a Wednesday three weeks ago, during a thunderstorm that was producing sideways rain and winds that took off rooftops. I was heading into work and he was adamant about driving me. I had let him.

It was going to rain soon.

I looked at her, and for some reason she flinched back. "He's coming. They all are. You're going to die."

She trembled with fury in the flashing light. Her eyes blackened and she was about to say something when the world was turned upside down.

"LOOK!" someone screamed.

It was Carlos. He was on the other side of the canyon, to the left, pointing and looking towards the southwest.

I couldn't see it at first, but the lightning and the noise gave it away. An enormous black cloud set low, almost touching the horizon, and it was growing and billowing out even more. Out of that cloud came a funnel, dancing along the air and making its way to the ground below.

It growled. That fucking twister _growled_.

Maria was already on her feet. She had moved closer to the fire. The funnel was far away, maybe a mile or two, rolling over the mesas on a path of its own towards the north. It wasn't heading in our direction at all; it was just a natural phenomenon.

In the desert.

When the twister touched the ground, it roared as it ate dirt and sand, throwing it up as it grew in mass. The base was about a half mile thick, and the lightning struck around it as the heat lightning lit it up. And when it was dark, when I could not see it, I could _hear_ it; the low rumble of a freight train, swallowing the desert and carving its path through dunes and mesas.

Lightning struck a bush or a cactus in its path. It ate the fire, twisting itself through the spirals of the funnel, fast and furious and unforgivable, towards the base and up into the heavens, lighting the funnel for just one moment.

A distraction. All eyes were on it.

A sign.

The time.

She was already pulling me up. A fair-haired girl with gray eyes. A girl of fifteen. The air seemed to disappear and I felt something even more powerful than the pull itself, which seemed to grow closer and closer with every tick of absolute time.

Something was coming. It was raw. It was hungry. And it was determined. It was also scared and love poured from it.

"Tell him I said hello."

She smiled and she was gone.

My vision was hazy and tears filled my eyes. But I was light on my feet. I hoped for a miracle. I wasn't jumping because two angels had told me to, I was jumping for Peter. Because I knew that he was _there_. I could _feel_ it. I could feel the love, the panic, and the hysteria. And I didn't want to do anything but soothe his heart and love him for all time.

Had he loved me for all of mine?

I was scared, frightened beyond belief about whatever lay on the other side. Life, Death, and Truth. But this time, I ran for all the right reasons. Water squished in between my toes. My sneakers were soaked.

I was light on my feet. There was not even a whisper of my feet hitting the surface. But Maria could hear my heart and I could feel her behind me.

I made it to the edge, to the top of the abyss, and I leaped into the air and into the darkness.

My world was filled with light. And it was cold.


	22. Chapter 21 LLDW Part I The Empath

Chapter 21. Let Loose the Dogs of War.

Part I: The Empath.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

Bonds are a tricky thing. You can break them just as easily as you can create them, and not even know it. Creating them, though, takes willpower. It takes love. Where there's a will, there's a way. But sometimes some really fucked up shit can interfere with our will and fuck it all up.

I had a bond with my brothers. With the pack. Our bond was not that different from what the real species was thought to have. Our bond was created by the mythical, passed down through the generations because that was 'the way'. We were created to protect the species from that which was deemed evil long ago, through medicine and magic. And though it served our purpose to 'protect', it was one trait I really could do without. Because no one but God should ever hear or know just what it is we're thinking about.

If Leah's meatloaf tasted like ass, she shouldn't fucking be able to 'hear' that shit in my mind. God knows how hard it was for the two of us plus Mom to function after Dad died. Mom hadn't been in the mood to cook, and she had needed to accept some things herself. She had needed to come to terms with the fact that her children had inadvertently killed their father because they had turned into something they really never wanted to _be_.

Nobody wanted to turn into a dog. Nobody wanted to know about the kind of fucking evil that existed that we were deemed the protectors against. And nobody should have to hear that they had used too many goddamn tomatoes and too many scoops of fucking bread crumbs.

It was hard enough just to _try_.

Instead that shit just hurts those we _do_ care about the most, and it takes away our privacy. It causes resentment, even when it has nothing to do with meatloaf at all. I had wanted nothing more than to not have to think about how she needed to get over Sam before she met Daniel. I just hadn't understood.

The truth can sometimes hurt those we love and care about the most. But the truth defines us too. It can create bonds that will no doubt seemingly be cemented into forever. Nothing can break that shit except ourselves.

So I had to wonder...was my will stripped from me, much like the gift the cute, little oracle had by something that seemed to hang over us like a cloud, or was it because I broke that bond because of the choices I had made?

I'd find out later it was a little bit of both.

It's strange, though, how we still miss the things we don't want when we don't have them. At least that's how it was for me. But I made my choices, and they were based on one thing, and one thing alone.

Love. A love that could rival that which I was capable of for some time.

And maybe because I was a little enamored with a crazy, bloodsucking ghost. I just wanted to 'know' him.

************Prelude End************

"We're going up." Peter said again as he searched the sky. It was obvious he was thinking, planning the way he was going to go in, get his girl, and unleash holy hell upon the ones who had taken her.

Jasper looked at him. We were all looking at him; even Garrett. I had the feeling though, that they all knew more about whatever the fuck he was thinking. I was just confused.

"We're gonna jump out of the plane?" Jasper paused. "It'll work."

"No. No…" Peter shook his head. He was still looking at the sky. "I'm gonna land that fucker right on Maria's _goddamn_ head," he said with hostility, emotion choking his words.

Jasper just stared at him for a moment. "Aww, fuck," he muttered.

Peter knocked Jasper's hand away and sat himself up. He stood up in a flash.

"What?" I asked.

I could have swore I heard Jasper groan. No one answered me. Was he talking about crashing a plane? Yes. Yes I believed he was.

It took some effort, but I stood up too. My shoulders ached and burned with new purpose. They were dislocated and healing that way.

Peter stood silent and straight as he looked over at Garrett and Debbie, who seemed really determined to peel the skin off her chest. Garrett had her arms and hands locked down, but he was having a hard time trying to interlock her fingers as she writhed in unimaginable pain.

Garrett's face looked perpetually frozen in a mask of grief as he looked between her and Peter.

"What?" I asked again, wincing because the relief I felt just seemed to fall away. It felt like something heavy had sat itself inside my chest. He was talking about crashing a plane.

Or, well, okay…he was going to 'land that fucker right on Maria's goddamn head.' I tried to look at it like that. I tried to imagine it, but I couldn't fucking do it.

He was talking about Crashing. A. Plane.

A plane we would be in. A plane _I_ would be in, and he would be crashing it on purpose.

Jasper's head snapped around and he pinned me with his eyes. The guy was sporting a kind of fucked up, purposeful look.

"He's gonna land it on her fucking head," he said as he shrugged. He gave me a once over, and then turned his head and looked back at Peter.

"Peter has a plane, Seth. We're going to fly there. We'll jump out," Alice said in sort of a fucked up, resigned, but excited kind of way. But even I could see the nervousness in her eyes. She ghosted over to the moving arm of the dead bloodsucker.

We were going to fly there. We were going to jump out of a plane. How? When? How?

'Fuck me' didn't seem like a broad enough term to cover it.

We, or _he_, were going to crash a plane right on the bitch's head. How the fuck was that going to save Bella when the bitch was sure to keep her close?

Jasper looked at me again, and Debbie cried with an agony I had no wish to ever feel.

"We're going to crash a plane?" I asked.

Jasper grinned somewhat. "We're gonna crash the plane. You said it yourself; we gotta drop 'the bomb', right? We can grab Bella and get her out of the way before it takes her out. Is that about right, Peter?"

Peter's head snapped around and he pegged Jasper with his eyes. I didn't even think, though, that you could even call them eyes. Instead, they were black globes of death, destruction, and mayhem.

The guy had suicide bomber written all over him.

It was like I was staring at the fucking Grim Reaper himself, who was more than a little furious that someone had stolen his scythe, the very appendage of who he was. It was the only tool he used in an effort of kindness because he was death. He embodied it. He embraced it.

If you take his scythe away, prepare to die violently.

His eyes were searching, and they moved in his face as much. They were searching for the very thing – the very _sight_ - they missed the most.

Bella was his scythe.

"That's about the size of it." His head turned just a fraction and I knew he was staring at me, but you just couldn't really tell.

"If you wanna back out, now is the time to do it. She'd want you safe," he said quietly, turning his head to look at Alice; who was starting to arrange vamp body parts into a pile. He ghosted over and picked up Bunyon's twitching and still leaking like a goddamn sieve torso by the remains of the bloodsucker's shirt to carry over to her pile.

I looked back at Jasper, who seemed to be studying me and waiting for a response.

What kind of response could one really fucking give? The fucker was going to crash a plane. I hated flying. I _really_ fucking hated flying. Now I was about to sign up as a fucking assistant to a kamikaze?

"Don't worry. Hopefully you won't die. We'll just jump out before it crashes, that's all," Jasper said, shrugging his shoulders. His black eyes seemed to light up as he took a step closer to me.

"That's easy for you to say, bloodsucker. I'm still flesh and bone. I can still...break. Seriously? We're gonna jump out of a fucking..._plane_?" My shoulders burned and ached.

I might have been 'special', but the goddamn fall would still kill me.

"You won't die. Say goodnight, Dog," Jasper said with that purposeful look again.

A lethargy unlike anything I had ever felt before washed over me, along with a sense of tranquility. I felt like I didn't have a care in the world, and I could almost say I wanted to buy Jasper a bunny - just so he could eat the furry little fucker before we committed suicide.

"What? What the hell are you doing to me, bloodsucker?" I wavered on my feet.

I was dizzy. My eyes were closing on their own accord. They _wanted_ to close.

"Your shoulders are fucked up. When you wake up, they'll feel all nice and right again. Say goodnight." He raised his eye brows.

"Fuck y..."

I was well on my way out when he punched me square in the jaw. I never even saw it coming. The vamp was lightning quick.

Falling was a bitch, though, and I was going to hit my head because I was going to land on my back. I could still feel the echo.

Falling.

Dreams can be the doorways to glimpses of the future. Other times, they don't mean shit.

I dreamed of jumping off the cliff at First Beach. It was vague, just like any other dream I'd ever had. When I popped to the surface, I looked up to the top of the cliff and saw a little, naked brunette looking down at me, smiling. She was no one I knew, but her eyes matched the red in her hair. She was pale and she shined brilliantly; a beautiful prism reflecting the last rays of the setting sun. There was a subtle curve to her naked hips, and her breasts looked like they would fit perfectly in the palms of my hands.

My body; my _heart_;seemed to float to her, like gravity had no meaning, because she was the center of the earth. She _was_ the Earth.

"_What are you waiting for?!"_

"Waiting for you to wake up. Get up, dreamer. It's time to go."

A hard nudge to my ribs woke me up. When I opened my eyes, I opened them to darkness.

And light.

The stars were coming out. Daylight had faded away almost completely. Jasper was standing over me, and so was Alice.

I had been dreaming about a woman. A _naked_ woman. A bloodsucker, yes, but she had been _naked_. You don't fuck up a wet dream and not pay the consequences in some way.

The problem was I wasn't completely awake yet. Her face was still in my memory. Coherency played a factor, but so did the sickly, sweet smell that came from the two who were standing over me.

My defenses went up, and it was too late to tell the firing cells in my body that everything was okay.

I phased, jumping immediately to all fours.

Alice was the closest. I still didn't realize in that second that it was her and that there was no harm. They had jumped back, but I was in her face, growling and snapping.

She only flinched a little, her neck trained up so she could look me in the eyes. Fight lit up _her_ eyes.

"You're a big, scary dog, Seth. Calm the fuck down or I'll roll up a newspaper and whoop your ass," she threatened, snarling in a way that made my blood curl.

But I was already on the way down, kneeling - or _heeling_ - before her. The strength had left my legs and I was feeling a little disoriented.

"He's kind of a cranky motherfucker when you wake him up. You're gonna need to get a grasp on that phasing shit," Jasper said. He was already beside Alice, pinning me with soft eyes and rendering me immobile.

Something was just 'off' about the bloodsucker. He was just too calm and collected. It made him stand out. It made him that much more lethal.

_Sorry. Sorry._

My cackles were really up, though, as the mickey that Jasper had slipped me wore off. Their scent was overpowering.

I glanced toward some flickering light behind me and saw the fire. Intense orange flames licked at violet and deep purple billows, and it sounded like moisture was being released from that which was on fire. Body parts burning, venom leaking.

And I realized something else as my mind relaxed and I looked at the last rays of light leaving the sky to the west. It was eerily silent, both in the desert and in my own mind.

There were no voices. There were no thoughts other than my own. It was a possibility that no one else had phased. It was a possibility that I was just too far out of range. It was still early.

I heard a grinding sound, metal on metal, and turned towards it. Peter had jumped up into the back of a 1968 bright yellow Camino with floating chrome low riders. There was so much gloss overlay that it looked like it would shatter if something hit it. Caminos were meant to turn and burn and look like pieces of shit, with heavy mags on the rear. This bitch, though, had been pimped out for cruising.

It was definitely not the kind of car two vegetarian bloodsuckers were meant to drive. They weren't supposed to drive shit - or _fly_ shit.

Peter sat down against the back end by the window on Garrett's left side. Garrett and Debbie were already there, but Garrett slid her over as Peter reached for her. Peter wiped away the hair at her brow, bending slightly to place his lips against her forehead. His shoulders shook, as he tucked his head down on her shoulder.

Why did it feel so wrong to hate something that was just as human as I was? I didn't hate Peter. I just hated what he was. I couldn't hate _any_ of them.

"Come on, Seth. Phase back. Sit with Alice up front," Jasper said quietly. He was staring at me again. He was gone the next second, already sitting himself against the back wheel well inside the Camino, his back to me.

My jaw was still throbbing a little from where he had punched me. My shoulders throbbed, but there was no pressure. They felt 'right', so I pulled myself back together.

It was odd. In what was such a chaotic and sad time, everything and everyone just seemed subdued; and calm. The last thing I thought the time would call for was time to reflect, time to be patient, but I guess it kind of reflected the calm before the storm. There was a mighty fucking heavy presence hanging over us; and I could _feel_ it.

Alice was still in front of me, pulling off her frock thingy. "Here. Wrap this around your...assets, big boy. You're giving Jasper a complex," she said quietly and shyly, smiling somewhat.

"I'm one hundred percent grade-A red meat. I even come with a longevity warranty."

It was out of my mouth before I even realized it, but she was just too pretty _not_ to flirt with her, even if she was a bloodsucker. I towered above her, and Alice was both impish and svelte. She was wearing a black, fitted tank top. Her skin was pale; her face was carved perfection.

She giggled, and I looked over at the back of the Camino, wondering if Jasper was going to whoop my ass for saying that to her. I was a little surprised that I had even said it, but he gave no indication that he'd heard me.

For the first time I was a little embarrassed because I had been walking around naked, swinging my shit in front of a girl.

"Wow, sorry about that. I, um...didn't mean any disrespect or anything."

She giggled again. I could see her eyes in the fire. They were a deep butterscotch and they flickered with kindness. "It's okay. There's none taken. I don't imagine this is easy for you at all; going against the grain and all that," she said quietly, looking away.

She started walking towards the car and I followed her up the small hill to the road as I tied her shirt around my waist. I covered up my dick and his two brothers, but my ass was still hanging out.

"It's confusing a little. Actually, it's confusing a lot."

She looked back at me. "Why?"

"Because it's going against everything I was taught to believe, or what I _do_ believe. I don't know...I only know I can't let Bella die. Not like this, anyway." I changed the subject. "So where are we going? Shouldn't we be hauling ass toward Boquillas or something? She could kill her at any time, right?"

She started walking towards the other side of the car, but she threw me a cautionary look. "Get in," she said quietly.

I opened the door to the Camino, which had been tripped out with even more chrome and deep red leather, and I glanced in the back. Not much had changed. Garrett had his head back against the window and he was letting Debbie squeeze his hands in a death grip.

Jasper had his knees bent over Peter's legs, with a hand on Debbie's arm. She had quieted somewhat, but she was gulping for air and whimpering out. Peter had her top half in his arms, holding her and whispering something to her. I could just make out the distinction, but not the words.

Jasper looked at me, but he turned his eyes back toward Peter and Debbie.

I shut the door as Alice started the car and threw it into gear. She peeled out of the dirt, flipping us around to head north. She floored it.

"Jesus Christ," I grounded out. One high speed chase had been enough, not to mention crashing head on with the Jolly Bloodsucking Giant. I didn't trust the tires on that fucking Camino.

"Be careful what you say right now, Seth. Peter is...not himself. Jasper's trying to keep the peace, but it's incredibly difficult, even for him. The only thing that's keeping Peter going right now is what we've told him, otherwise he'd be writing her off as dead. A _part_ of him still thinks she is." Alice paused, shaking her head. She was clearly worried.

"Boquillas is on the border, down in Texas. It'll take Maria a good three or four hours to get there, and that is where we're going, but we have to take Deb and Garrett home. It's only a little over an hour by air," she said quietly.

He _had_ thought she was dead. He had been adamant that she was gone.

_"No. She's dead. She's dead. I can't feel her anymore. Maria killed her. She's dead. She's gone. OH, GOD, SETH! SHE'S DEAD!"_

"Before you got there, he told me that she was dead and that he couldn't 'feel her anymore.' What do you suppose he meant?" I asked.

She didn't say anything for a moment, and I didn't know if it was because she didn't know what to say or because she was trying to keep control of the car when she hit a dip.

She shook her head. "I don't know. Peter is...very attached to Bella, but I don't know what he could have meant," she said quietly. Worry poured out of her.

"Why not just get in front of the bitch? You know, surprise her or something?" I asked.

She sighed. "Because I can't see her trail. I can't _see_ shit," she nearly spat. "I saw Bella and Maria this afternoon before we got off the plane. That was the last thing I saw. Boquillas is a place we all know well. We have the advantage. It's just the matter of time we have to be concerned about; that, and getting in unseen and unheard. I imagine Peter has it all figured out, but he's not sharing at this point. That's probably best," she muttered in sort of a dreadful way.

I looked at her. Her eyes were trained on the road and we were flying like a demon with a purpose.

"Why?"

Alice looked at me and her eyes bugged out of her head. "Because Peter's going to crash the fucking plane. It's not like we go crashing planes and jumping out of them every day." She looked at me a little concerned. "Are you going to be okay with this?"

"Will I live?"

She shrugged. "Ask Peter. Your guess is as good as mine," she muttered.

"Well, that's just fucking great. I thought you were the all powerful, seeing oracle?" I asked. It was no lie, I was _afraid_. I was afraid of dying, but this…this was all part of living, of doing what was right.

I had to make amends. The last thing I ever said to Bella pretty much indicated that I blamed her for all our problems. But it wasn't her fault. She would never put me in harm's way intentionally. She just didn't always think everything through, that's all. She just hadn't _known_.

Alice sighed deep and long. She slowed down when we reached the main road; turning left sharply because there were no cars in sight. We were heading back to Santa Fe.

She didn't answer right away, and her eyes from her profile looked distant. "I used to be. I still am, I think. But there are forces at work that none of us can fully comprehend, except maybe Peter. You have to understand that I can't see you, but I can see the decisions that are made that may revolve around you. But it's more than that now. I can't see _anyone's_ future. I can tell you that you would have killed Garrett, and Debbie would have died if we hadn't shown up at that precise moment."

Alice was talking about fate, and fate was what it was. Everything happens for a reason.

"You changed fate. Maybe there was a reason I was supposed to kill him."

She looked over at me sharply. "Fate is what we make of it. Killing Garrett and Debbie only would have gotten you killed. Peter _would_ have killed you, Seth. As soon as he picked himself up, he would have realized what you had done, and he would have killed you. Then he would have went after Maria by himself. Would you like to know how many pieces Maria ripped Bella into?" she asked quietly; and with hostility.

I turned in my seat to look in the back. Debbie was back in Garrett's arms, and he was cradling her to his chest. I couldn't see Jasper because Peter was blocking the way. His back was towards me.

It was a little hard to believe he would have gotten up to kill me because I was so sure that he had just given up. The moment she was gone, I was sure he had just given up and there was no fight left in him at all.

"If you can't trust me for what I am, at least trust me for what I know. Jasper and I have been through this before. Peter won't stop at anything until Maria's dead and he has Bella. This time, though, if he loses her, it _will_ kill him. I know that much," Alice said, and when I looked at her, she had a look of sheer desperation on her face.

"What happened before?"

That was when Alice spoke of things that were unbelievably gruesome yet bittersweet at the same time. She talked of acts of kindness and of a bond between brothers that was broken because of greed and the need to avenge. She told me about Jasper and his time with Maria; and how he came to be and how Peter came to be.

They were - or had been - the embodiment of everything I hated about them. They were my enemies. Shit, they were the enemies of anyone who walked around with a beating heart and body full of warm blood. And they were their own enemies too.

She spoke quickly and quietly, telling me all about Jasper and his ability to feel and manipulate. She told me how the very gift he was probably given when he was born restored the heart and compassion that that bitch, Maria, had stolen away from him. She told me about Peter, who of all things had been a teacher when Jasper bit him. And now, now he was an architect.

A fucking _teacher_ had put the smack down on Bunyon, not someone who wanted to fight some goddamn needless war. It was everything I wanted to know, and yet I still wanted to know _more_.

She told me about Charlotte's death years later. She told me how Maria had gone after the weakest link in a sick act of vengeance; when maybe she should have just focused on Jasper.

I suppose I was infatuated with Peter, but I didn't want to swap cock spit with the dude. I suppose I just wanted to be his friend, even if he was my enemy. How could I hate him when it seemed like he still embraced the mortal coil he still embodied? The guy constructed houses, places to _live_.

All while he sucked the life out of humanity…

And I also suppose I was sort of disappointed, only because The Ghost had been a man and more human than I ever wanted him to be. I guess I still wanted to cling to the idea of Peter and the omniscience that he represented that day. He wasn't a vampire. He had been the deliverer of that which plagued the tribe _and_ Bella. He was a ghost.

An _angel_.

It was still the biggest question of all in my mind. How he was in the water that day and how he had changed fate.

Alice then told me how they left Peter because he was killing himself - and maybe _them_ right along with him. I jumped the gun. We were on the interstate and getting off at an exit to a road that led to the east, up the mountain.

"So you left him like you left Bella. The shit got hard, so you did what you do best. You _left_."

Alice didn't answer right away. She just watched the road and her face twisted in sorrow.

She had to go slower. Traffic was heavy because it was Friday night and there were city cops and county sheriffs all over the fucking place.

I felt for Peter. Someone had to. The guy's life had been seriously fucked up. He might have been fucking crazy and mad with desire to kill the bitch who killed his mate, but I would have been crazy too. If the shoe had been on the other foot, I doubt Jasper would have given up either. I doubt _any_ of them would have given up.

Even Victoria's sole purpose before she was killed was to avenge her mate by going after the weakest link. After _Bella_. Why couldn't these fucking bloodsuckers just go after the very thing that had caused them such injustice in their eyes?

Because they were all fucking lunatics, every single fucking one of them. And hitting that which they held dear in their hearts was how you brought them down. It was how you made them suffer.

Even humanity was capable of _that_.

"I don't owe you shit, Seth, but I do owe Bella. We made some choices because of mistakes both Jasper and I made, and I don't owe an explanation to anyone but her, so go ahead and think whatever the fuck it is you want to think. Besides, they just might not have been bad choices after all," she ended firmly.

It didn't escape my notice that she was leaving a lot out; a lot about _everything_. Alice was hiding something. She was just as fucking manipulative as her mate.

"You're talking about fate. Where it all lead to. Peter and Bella, right? Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that that's pretty fucked up. He's going through the same goddamn thing he went through before, and for all we know she _could_ be dead. _Your_ choices might not have changed fate after all. Maybe someone else's did. Maybe everyone's," I told her.

Her svelte features were hard, and she glared at the road ahead. She took a left, and then we were hitting the curves in the road tight and sharp. I had no idea where the fuck we were – just somewhere east of the city and going up a ridge on the mountain.

"You may be right. I no longer have control over anyone's fate. Not even my _own_. It's not a good feeling."

We were _all_ walking blindly into the unknown.

"What did you mean earlier by there are forces at work that we can't comprehend? What are you hiding?" I asked.

I glanced in the back and was sorry that I did. Jasper had moved to sit against the other wheel well, and he was pegging me with a hard look - a look that just seemed to say, 'Shut the fuck up.'

"We're done talking. We're almost there," she said quietly, looking in the rear view mirror.

I had obviously struck a nerve, but I didn't care. I trusted only one person in this whole debacle, and strangely enough, it was Peter.

Cute, little Alice, who had been nothing but kind, was nothing but a conniving bitch who was holding back quite a lot. I was sure of that.

It was just another minute before we turned into a long driveway to a ranch-style adobe that sat on a ridge. It was a house that was probably a little on the costly side, but homey nonetheless. There was a nicely manicured front yard, with birdbaths and a little pond and a garden on the side of the garage. The house was dark and empty. No life teemed within it.

Alice screeched the car to a stop just as I was wondering if she was planning on running it through the garage door.

"Where are we?"

"This is Peter's. And Bella's. Garrett lives here too. Come on," Alice said, already on her way out.

I got out of the low rider just as Garrett jumped out with Debbie in his arms. There was a sidewalk that led to a beamed porch and entryway for the front door. Jasper was already at a set of double doors and turning the knob. Peter was coming up behind him, and Alice was behind me. We followed Garrett and Debbie.

"It's locked."

Only for about a second; long enough for Jasper to move out of the way so Peter's foot could come up and kick the door almost off its hinges.

It didn't seem to bother Jasper any. It was kind of like he knew Peter would just kick it in. He didn't exactly look like he had a set of keys on him. And wherever they had been staying in Albuquerque was probably where his shoes were at too. There was no pause - they just flitted in, lights coming on as they went.

A cold draft, full of Garrett's sickly, sweet scent, hit me in the face as I walked in through the entryway. The only thing that kept me from gagging was the subtle scent of human femininity. Flowers after a spring shower.

Bella.

A pair of woman's heels sat perfectly under a small mosaic table which had a bowl filled with spare keys sitting on it.

Black wedges.

I heard Alice's intake of breath behind me. Jasper had stopped just inside the other side of the entryway. I stopped next to him. He was surveying the house with a solemn look on his face.

It was a large, open space; there weren't walls for yards and yards around us. And no walls meant that there was nothing blocking her scent; or just her presence alone. She had lived and breathed in this house.

For Garrett there was no pause. He moved to the left, with Debbie shaking and writhing in his arms, down a hallway next to the kitchen.

And I had to wonder when the agony would end for her. I had to wonder when her voice would finally give, or if it ever would, because she couldn't scream or cry anymore. I was pretty sure there was no pain I could ever experience that could compare to that.

Alice was having a hard time keeping herself calm and collected as she stood on Jasper's other side. She had a case of the tremors, and it was as if she couldn't catch her breath.

"She's all over the place," Jasper said, subdued.

And he was right. It wasn't just her scent, though. She was in the rocking chair, which sat over by the library with a quilted throw that Charlie had brought down when he had visited her last year. It had belonged to her grandmother. She was in an empty glass, which sat on a book on a table behind the chaise of the couch. She was in a caricature, which was framed and hanging on the wall between the double-entrance alcove behind me. It was something that had been drawn at a fair or an amusement park, and it showed a real busty Bella, and a Peter, who had been drawn as Dracula, fangs and all, as she tilted her neck in a look of fright.

That was kind of fucking twisted and morbid.

Peter just stood there by a really cluttered up work area. There was a drafting table of sorts next to him, and he held a leather book in his hand. He looked around his own house, to what was missing, and the only sound was Debbie's burning agony somewhere off in a room down the hall.

He looked as if he was going to explode. His eyes - the lids of his eyes that were burned - only accentuated the burning turbulence in what looked like soulless globes of fury and death.

That fucker was going to crash a plane. And he probably hadn't even had to think twice about it.

The calm in the air; the subdued calamity that had encapsulated us in the desert and in the car like the cloud that had hovered over us, was accentuated by something else for a few moments, and all of a sudden I was furious. My blood was pumping and every fucking molecule in my body wanted to explode in a fit of murderous rage.

No one moved. For a few seconds a termagant air just fucking invaded and sucked up all that which had been calm just moments before.

"Jasper?"

Alice was standing in front of Jasper, but I hadn't seen her move. Her golden eyes searched his imploringly, and she looked at him, alarmed.

When I looked at him, I was suddenly very afraid I was standing too close. There was nothing but mayhem in his black eyes, and he looked like he was about to unleash holy hell.

The weight that was sitting in my chest - the crushing weight of wrath I hadn't really identified until that moment - left almost instantly.

I think Jasper and I breathed at the same time.

Nothing mattered in that moment. There was no other purpose that I clung to. There was no belief that I was standing next to that which was considered evil, repugnant, soulless, and heartless by those I called my brothers and sisters.

Because there was more heart and love there in that room than I had ever felt. And I needed nothing more than to do what I thought was right.

Peter, Jasper, Alice, Garrett, and Debbie were all tied to the one thing that was missing, and so was I. She was the one thing we all loved. She embodied the charisma and the compassion we were all attracted to and that we all adored.

One of us more than anyone.

"Jesus Christ," Jasper gritted out. Peter turned his eyes on Jasper. There was still fury in his.

"What the fuck was that?" I asked. Alice's neck careened up, and she was cooing and palming his cheek the next second.

Jasper breathed out, slow and long, keeping his eyes on Alice's. She was calming him. I realized she was calming him.

It was awe-inspiring how quickly the mood seemed to change.

"It was all of you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Jasper said, shaking his head quickly and breathing out deeply through his nose.

Peter looked away, his face unchanging. Anger, fear, and grief were a set constant on him.

He ghosted over to an island in the kitchen and picked up a phone as Alice soothed her other half.

"It's okay. It's okay, but you might want to keep that shit contained until later."

Jasper looked at Peter. "What are you doing?"

Peter looked at him, eyes burnt and ablaze. "Calling the airport. I need fuel and I need to file a flight plan," he said with no emotion. The book he had was a book of maps, and he flipped through the pages with speed, his eyes glued to it as he cradled the phone to his ear.

"It's Peter Whitlock. I need HOP913 pulled out and sixteen thousand pounds in the tank for an urgent run. And put me through to SAFAC," he ordered quietly, his voice raspy.

I looked at Jasper. "He needs a flight plan to crash a plane?"

Jasper looked at me and his eyes were aloof. "Yeah." He smiled and paused. "Or else the Air Force would shoot us down before we ever got there," he reasoned.

Alice grabbed my arm lightly. "Come with me, Seth."

I looked down at her and she was smiling softly. I nodded.

Jasper's eyes were on Peter as he ghosted over to the island. I followed Alice past the island and down a wide hallway, away from the planning of a doomed fucking flight.

We walked into the first room - the one Garrett had taken Debbie into silently - and I saw a sort of miracle. Debbie was awake. Her eyes were open, but it looked like every blood vessel within them had popped; and the whites of her eyes were gone. They were filled with blood.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there sooner. Jasper!" Garrett yelled.

She was looking at Garrett, thrashing about on a queen-sized bed in the room, and her face looked as if it was stuck in a perpetual scream that only said one thing. She just couldn't get the words out. But she _was_ screaming.

'Kill me. Just fucking kill me.'

And I thought about it right then and there.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

"Jasper?!" Alice yelled.

Garrett, the rumpled-looking bloodsucker I knew nothing about, was pinning her arms and hands above her head and straddling her lower half. That was when I noticed her chest, and I think Alice noticed it, too, because I heard her intake of breath.

Debbie was still in just her bra; one of those nude-colored things that were kind of meant for support; but she didn't seem to be filling it out so much anymore. At least one of her breasts didn't, and the skin on her chest was blazing red. All of her skin was odd, anyway. Gone was the subtle shimmer of healthy, peach-colored skin. Now it was pale and blotchy.

Honestly, I really wished at that moment that someone would just knock her the fuck out. The blood curdling, inhuman noise that came from her made me want to put her out of her misery.

My wish pushed me into Alice when he brushed by me as he came through the door.

"Knock her out. Just knock her out. It's those goddamn breasts! They're fucking boiling!" Garrett spat out thickly.

It was bad. It was _really_ bad. I think I realized right at that moment that those implants inside her were boiling with liquid saline, which had probably turned to lava when one of the casings broke. And there was still one left, one that hadn't yet..._popped_.

"Her whole fucking body's boiling, Garrett. She'll be screaming again in a matter of minutes," Jasper said, stopping beside the bed.

Garrett looked at him with murder in his eyes. "I don't care! Put her to sleep! If only for a minute, let her not feel this, _please_!"

His crazed, black eyes looked like they were about to explode out of his head.

"Seth, come on. Come with me," Alice said. She was at my side, tugging my arm. Jasper sat down on the bed and he wiped away the sweat and the hair that was stuck away from Debbie's brow.

The screaming ended right as we walked out of the room.

"How long is she gonna burn?" I asked. Alice was tugging me towards a room further down at the end of the hallway.

"Three days. Maybe less, if she's lucky."

Three days? She was going to burn for three fucking days! And scream? Was it worth it? Did she want this?

We walked into a much larger room, which had a king-sized poster bed and matching dark oak dressers. There was a bathroom off to the side, and a window made up half the wall in front of me, which bowed out with a view of the forest and the city below.

There was a black night shirt lying carelessly on the end of the bed with Happy Bunny on it. 'Hi. Eat Me,' it read.

"Maybe she'd have been better off dead. She might not have wanted this."

Alice was looking around the room. Her eyes were liquid, and she looked sort of sad. For a moment I didn't think she had heard me.

"Deb wanted it. She loves him. He'll take care of her," she said in a sort of numb way. Alice's eyes came to rest on a dresser in the corner. She sniffed the air and walked over to it. She pulled open the fourth drawer down.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

She rummaged through the clothes in the drawer. Pants. "You need some pants. Don't worry, Peter won't mind. Plus, they won't stink. I'm going to go to Bella's. I'll bring back some of your own clothes," she said as she handed me a pair of blue sweatpants.

She turned around and I took that as a sign to take off her silly frock. She opened up another drawer and took out a gray T-shirt, throwing it over her shoulder at me with precision.

"You're going to Bella's? Why?" I slipped the sweats on. They were too short but they fit around the waist well enough. I didn't slip the shirt on, though. I still had blood smeared all over my chest from the wound in my shoulder.

Jasper ghosted into the room. "Yeah, why?"

Alice ignored him, but she turned around. "Is she asleep?"

"For now, but not for long. Garrett threw me out. He's cleaning her up." Jasper was looking at Alice quite seriously. Alice's face was forlorn.

"When do we leave?" she asked.

"It's gonna take them forty-five minutes to pull it out and fuel it up. Why are you going to Bella's?" he asked her softly.

"I'm going to Debbie's, actually. She needs some of her clothes, some of her things, plus the car. They're going to need it. Maybe…maybe I'll see something." Alice tried to smile but she failed miserably.

"I'll go with you. I'll get directions from Garrett," Jasper told her.

She shook her head. "No. I'll ask him. I could probably find my own way, anyways. You might as well stay here and help him with her as long as you can. Besides, you can't leave Peter."

I was listening to their back and forth when I realized just how it all affected the future.

"Debbie can't ever go home again, can she?" I asked.

Jasper looked at me. No particular emotion showed on his face other than worry. "No. She can't ever go back. Debbie will be a newborn. It'll be weeks, maybe months, before she finds some sense of control. I'm sure Garrett's already planning on taking her far away from here. We'll try to take care of some of her personal affairs when this is over. If we live…"

I was going to tell him that that was really fucking encouraging, but he looked back to Alice. "You have thirty minutes. If you're not back by then, I'm coming after you," he told her.

"I'll be back. Just keep him calm," she told him - more like _promised_ - with her eyes. Then she looked at me.

"I'll break into Bella's and get some of your clothes, if you want," Alice said.

It was just weird. One minute I thought she was a bitch and the next minute I liked her because she was just too damn nice. Bella always said that she had been a little overbearing, but other than her little, heated response in the car, she had been quite fucking cordial. I didn't get it. I was just as much _supposed_ to be their enemy as they were _supposed _to be mine.

"I gotta couple pairs of shorts in my suitcase, if you don't mind grabbing them. Maybe a T-shirt too. Debbie's keys are lying on Bella's table by the front door."

She nodded and smiled sort of brightly. "Okay. Thank you. I'm, um...sorry about what I said back in the car. It's just that we have a lot to work out, Seth. Bella and I. I would prefer to keep it between me and her. Being in the middle…well, I've been there and it just kind of sucks, if you know what I mean."

I knew exactly what she meant.

"It's not a problem. We're good." I bowed my head once. She smiled and looked at Jasper, who was eyeballing me. The guy just had a way of giving you the creeps, even when he didn't seem too threatening.

They started looking at each other, and I got the feeling that they wanted to be left alone for a minute because no one said anything and no one made an attempt to move right away.

"I'll, um…yeah, make myself scarce." I waved half-assed and walked out of the bedroom.

There was no noise at all coming from the spare bedroom other than the sound of dripping water.

"_What if Seth is right? What are we going to do if I'm wrong?"_

"_You're not wrong. But I don't know."_

I walked out into the kitchen. Peter wasn't at the island anymore. His map book lay open on the counter next to the phone.

The fridge caught my eye. Hanging from a magnet was a crumpled up ten dollar bill that had been pressed flat and a newspaper article for the horse that had won the Kentucky Derby that year. Someone had drawn an arrow pointing at the horse and written 'Dinner on Tuesday' off to the side in big, red capital letters.

Peter was standing in the living room by the vast window that made up the back of the house. He was staring out the glass, out into the night.

He was still as could be, like a statue, and not even breathing. The house was dimly lit. The only noise was that of hushed whispers from the room I had left and Garrett himself, who seemed to be praying.

I was behind him before I even knew my legs had taken me there. One would have thought he was taking in the view, but for some reason I didn't think he was looking at anything other than that which was in his memory. In the reflection his hair was tousled and his eyes were like two black holes leading to nothingness. His jaw was clenched tight, but I bet if he bit into something, he wouldn't let go until _he_ was ready to.

He was...kind of beautiful, even with the fucked up eyes. He was lethal, even in stillness. He looked inhuman.

I had no idea what I was searching for. Answers, I guess, to something that just seemed to loom out there over the desert, in the car, over this house, and all of these people. And I guess, over Bella, too.

"You told me on the phone that you were the one in the water that day, the day my father died. Why did you say that?"

His face broke from the scowl it seemed to be perpetually stuck in, and I could tell that he was finally looking at something. He was looking at _me_ through the glass. But then he looked back out the window.

I started to turn away because I didn't think he was going to answer.

"Do you remember that day as anything else?" His voice was raw, scratchy, and quiet, but I could hear the smooth baritone behind it. He was still just staring out the window.

I knew what he meant. It was a fact. If I thought about that day, I thought about my father dying first. The rest was always secondary.

"No. I guess not."

Peter looked at me through the reflection and nodded. "That's why I said it. You, me, Bella - we all think of it as something different. It affected all of us in some way. For you it was the day you lost your father," he paused. "I'm sorry for your loss. I always have been."

"Thank you, but I think you know what I really need to know."

He looked back out the window. "I do."

And he didn't say anything else. He just stared out the fucking window and looked at nothing. I gave it a good twenty seconds before I turned to walk away.

"I was there to change fate. I've seen some things that most people could never dream about and things I wished I hadn't. I've seen the future, which is now my past. And hers," he choked.

"I don't understand."

"I don't either!" he bit out thickly, but he swallowed and looked down, and then he spoke more calmly. "Not anymore."

I heard and felt the air move behind me, and I heard the front door squeak on its hinges.

I saw Jasper's reflection out of the corner of my eye.

"Fate is what it is. She's always been destined to die. I've fucked with it so many times because I was supposed to. I played Charlotte's goddamn game even when the future was gone. _I_did that." He pounded on his chest. "But she still _fucked_ with it. I never had control. It's always been in _her_ control_,_" he seethed. He was shaking with anger. His eyes were filled with unimaginable horror.

I really had no idea what to think. He was talking crazy. Crazy to me, anyway.

He started shaking his head back and forth. He was breathing hard. "Maybe I was supposed to tell her the truth, even when she fucking told me to _wait_. There's nothing left for me in this world if Bella's not in it. I can't _feel_ her anymore." He pounded his chest - his heart - with his fist again. "She's nowhere, and nowhere is where I'd rather be. I can't do it again. I don't want to. I can't. I just _can't_."

A door opened from somewhere down the hall and he had broke and shattered into a million pieces all over again.

"You won't have to."

I had to look because I really hadn't heard his voice speak out so clearly, but Garrett was there, standing beside Jasper by the window. He was looking at Peter, who was looking directly at him. Garrett's eyes were glossed over black pools of anger and grief.

I didn't know anything about the dude, but it seemed to me that both he and Peter had just experienced the worst fucking day of their unnatural lives.

I just didn't know what his anger and grief were for - for Bella or for Debbie? She was dying. She was losing her human life and burning at the stake. Maybe it was for all of it.

"Garrett..." Jasper didn't look at him completely, but he sounded like he was interjecting. He looked like he was biting his tongue, and he was looking hard at the floor.

"No, Jasper. If he doesn't want to, he doesn't have to. He _cannot_ live without her. None of us would be able to come as far as he has and not want death if the very thing we lived for - a gift from...God - was taken away. The damage was done years ago. He can't do it again."

Garrett swallowed thickly, and it took him a second before he could speak. "You bring her home, one way or the other. I'll take care of you. You have my word."

Jasper lost the precarious hold he had on his tongue. "Jesus fuckin' Christ. _You'll_ take care of him? Bella's not fucking dead, and she ain't gonna fuckin' die, so quit talking like she already is." His voice shook with repressed anger. The air thickened.

"Do we really know that, Jasper? Someone, or something, is pulling all the strings now, including those of your wife's. She _could_ be gone." Garrett was looking Jasper in the eye. His eyes were narrowed.

Peter wavered on his feet and his jaw trembled.

"Alice isn't wrong, Garrett. She saw her sitting in the goddamn fire pit that...that fucking..."Jasper swallowed his anger. It had settled in his throat thickly. "She ain't wrong. Bella's still alive, and she isn't gonna die."

Jasper was pegging him with a very serious and threatening look, but Garrett did not waver.

I had unconsciously taken a step back. Things were edgy. Things were very, very fucking confusing. But I was getting more out of just observing than I would have if I had asked direct fucking questions.

And although it pissed me off and angered me to the point where I wanted to bitch slap all of them because we should just go get her already, I couldn't say a fucking thing. There was enough tension between the three vamps without adding my own two cents worth.

Peter moved like a bullet from a gun to stand directly in front of Jasper.

"Promise me. If we get down there and if she's dead, promise me you'll do it. I don't want to live a second longer than I have to. Don't deny me death. Not again. Please," he said, ending with something between bitterness and grief.

Jasper flinched like someone had slapped him. His face twisted in anger and hurt flashed through his eyes.

I could feel it. It felt like someone had reached inside my chest and squeezed my heart, twisting it.

He huffed out, his face sneering and grimacing at the same time. "You wanna die? I'll kill you. I guess I owe you _that_ much. I'll make it quick and painless. Because God knows _you've_ suffered more than anybody, right? I'll make it quick," he promised as he sneered again and nodded. "I'll right the wrong I made in bringing you into this _fucking_ existence, and I _won't_ look back."

Peter lurched like someone had kicked him in the gut; or plowed into him with a freight train. It was bad enough just 'feeling' it when it wasn't directed at you.

I even looked down, expecting to find a knife sticking out of my chest.

Debbie sounded like someone had stuck one in hers, too, only the blade had been lying over an open fire and it was searing hot.

I guess the question was who threw that cutting blade first?

Jasper looked him straight in the eyes before he turned around and walked back towards the bedroom.

Peter swallowed thickly. His face twitched. "I never..."

"You just _did_, and I _know,_ you don't _mean_ it. Bella ain't dead, Peter. She ain't dead. But you might wish you were later because this is only half the battle you're gonna have to face. She's gonna find out the truth one way or the other, even if I have to fuckin' tell her. Of course, if she's dead, that's an easy out for you!" He was out of sight but his voice was cutting. The bedroom door opened.

There was so much fucking hostility coming out of his wake that I was shaking in my fucking skin. Electrodes were firing. My blood was pumping. My heart was thudding heavily in my chest.

Peter took another blow with the proverbial knife. This one sliced his throat and he stopped breathing. It was almost as if he was withering away in his own fucking skin.

"You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch," he choked quietly.

"He didn't mean it, and neither did you. You have to stop it. You have to try," Garrett told him, his eyes glossed over. He was slapping his hand against Peter's face, in a way to wake him up, and he was gripping his upper arm.

Peter grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from his face. "What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" He ghosted away and out the front door.

"Where's he going?" I had to wonder if he was leaving.

Garrett, too, was looking towards the door, but then he turned to look at me. "Not far."

And he was right. Even I could hear the dull _thunk_ of him falling to the earth somewhere in the front yard.

It was just me and Garrett, and Garrett looked like he needed to be in the bedroom because Debbie was awake and screaming again.

We stood there and stared at each other for a moment, his eyes soft and full of emotion.

"You better go. She needs you. Sorry I tried to kill you."

"You didn't understand," Garrett said thickly. He paused, and then swallowed. "Did she...was she...?"

"Debbie was as strong as she could be. She stood up to me for you. She said she loved you and she didn't like me calling you a leech. Had the situation been different, she probably would have kicked my ass."

I really didn't know what he was going to ask. I imagined it was something along the lines of how she spent those last chaotic minutes. Whatever it was, my answer seemed to appease him in some way, and it lifted a ton of shit off his shoulders.

He smiled but it was short lived. The next blood-curdling scream rang through the pottery sitting on top of the kitchen cupboards.

"Thank you," he said. His arm twitched up, along with his hand, but then he lowered it.

I stuck mine out instead. It only took him a second to reach for it, and then he shook my hand with his. I should have cringed away, but I didn't.

"Go. She needs you."

He nodded once, and then he was gone. Back in the bedroom Debbie took a breath, and then she fell silent. I wondered if she had felt all the anger and all the hurt that had seemed to float in the air not a minute ago. All that remained was the ever-looming cloud of something deep and dark.

That house held secrets. That house held ghosts.

I was alone, and it was almost completely silent except for the tick, tick, tick of a clock somewhere near; and a drip, drip, drip coming from a room down the hall. The sound was coming from a bathroom, and I had been holding a ton of piss inside me since I'd first smelled vampire.

I followed the sound to a door by the library and walked into a small bathroom. The dripping sound was coming from the sink. Someone hadn't turned the cold water handle shut all the way.

I took care of business and found a drawer full of wash rags and hand towels. Blood from the now scabbed-over wound in my shoulder smeared my skin, so I cleaned up a little before I put Peter's shirt on. It was a little tight but it would work until I had my own clothes.

The door caught my attention when I opened it. There was a missing piece of decorative molding in the middle of the door and a dent further up that looked like someone had hit it.

I looked through the library. Historical non-fiction, modern day fiction, reference books, and even children's books lined the shelves. I pushed the rocker as I walked by it. Age and use made it squeak.

A house with flaws. A house with secrets.

"…_there are forces at work that none of us can fully comprehend, except maybe Peter.__"_

My mind was running rapidly through the last hour's events. Through everything I had experienced and heard, through all the obvious heartbreak and grief, through all the tense and hostile family drama. Because that's what it was - _family fucking drama_, and it was filled with secrets probably older than me, as well as thoughts of betrayal.

And love, although it was going to take a fucking miracle for any of those fuckers to admit to anything.

But there was one thing that was plaguing me and me alone, and I decided to test it once again.

There was a glass door along the window wall, and it led out to an open patio which sat on the ridge. The view was stupendous outside. The outline of the Jimez could be seen in the distance, and the star-studded sky touched its jagged lines. The city sat below in the valley. The air was thick, heady with humidity, and hot. There wasn't that much of a difference in temperature from when the sun had been up.

The patio was glossed concrete and there was a large hot tub off to the left. It had an L-shaped patio set sitting behind it with a gas fire place. It was a great place to watch the sunset.

I walked over to the patio set and stripped out of Peter's clothes. I embraced the curse, but it didn't seem so much like a curse anymore because I was about to travel down a road with some heavy duty, epic shit.

It was silent. There was _nothing_. When it wasn't there, I couldn't help but miss the noise, the unity, and the bond.

I padded over to the other side, to the edge of the patio, to listen for just a hint of another mind.

There was nothing. It was just _me_.

The strength; the loss of thought, had never wavered in any of the pack's travels. But none of us had ever gone away as far as New Mexico; and it led me to question whether it was because the 'something' that had been looming over us had rendered my mind into silence, or if it was because I was just too far away.

Or maybe it was because I had made a choice and shook the hand of a bloodsucker, someone who the elders believed I should have been killing.

Maybe it was all of it.

Alice was having trouble seeing. She and Jasper had been trying to call all of them all day, unable to get through to warn them and tell them what had been seen and done.

I couldn't talk to my brothers.

And Peter couldn't 'feel' her anymore. He was no more than a vampire. He was neither a ghost nor an angel.

But not all of us had been rendered powerless. We weren't. I was still a wolf and they were still vampires.

I was standing on the edge of the patio, looking down to the forest below the ridge when the door opened and Jasper walked outside.

He had taken off his boots, and he walked around the hot tub after glancing at me. He leaned against a support rail that was jutting out of the ridge. He looked out to the city below. His face was solemn.

I didn't know much about the guy, only that he himself had walked through hell and lived in it for a good century. He had also ruled it. His body and mind were scarred and twisted, but youth and contentment seemed to rule over him for the most part.

Except for when his brother – or his _son_ – had slapped him with what he had done. Maybe it should have been forgotten about a long time ago.

Or maybe not. Who was I to say? But it just seemed that maybe Peter needed to forget some shit. What was done was _done_.

There was sure to be a list of never-ending pros and cons in both their minds. It was a list that could never be written down because Peter was the craziest emo fucker of them all. Jasper it seemed, just wanted to _live_.

I padded over to him slowly. He glanced at me, his face severe; but then he looked back out until I got closer.

I really didn't know why, other than the fact that he just seemed to draw me in and he was a pretty blunt bloodsucker, but the son of a bitch had knocked the shit out of me twice, so I was prepared for anything.

His eyes stayed on me until I was about a foot away from him. His nose wrinkled up quickly in distaste but his features softened as he took me in.

He just looked at me - my eyes, my face, my head - and said nothing.

I nudged his arm with my muzzle. Nobody could resist a dog, even one the size of a horse.

His hand came up with caution. He procrastinated for a moment before he reached for my head.

I didn't cringe away. I lowered my head so he could 'feel' me. He rubbed my head and scratched the spot just behind my jaw. I was a canine. That shit felt _great_.

His voice was quiet and smooth. Reminiscent.

"I had a dog once. A Golden Lab. Found him starving out in my daddy's pasture. I used to throw a tin can out into the pond and that son of a bitch used to glide through the air when he would jump off the dock to get it. It was a beautiful thing. All he wanted to do was play, play, play. I had him for two years before the stupid fucker followed me up into the hay loft one day. He jumped after a bale of rotten hay I threw out. He broke his leg. I had to shoot him," he said dully.

I pulled myself together.

"Man, why do you gotta go and tell me shit like that? We're getting ready to jump out of a crashing plane. It don't look good for me."

I walked over to the other side of the hot tub to retrieve my pants while he laughed it off.

"It'll be okay, Seth. You're gonna have to worry more about what's on the ground when you do hit it, if you want to live."

I walked back over to the rail and slid my pants on. "What exactly do you mean?" I asked him quietly.

He turned to face me a little bit.

"Newborns, Seth. Peter won't be able to take them all out. They don't have very much skill, but they do have strength. When they come at you, they'll come at you head on. Go for the side. You know, play chicken with the fuckers but don't let them get their arms around you. You can turn your head almost three hundred and sixty degrees. Bite their goddamn heads off from the back of their neck but don't waste any time tearing the rest of them apart; not until you're sure you don't have one coming up behind you. One of us will be with you anyway. But don't do something stupid and separate yourself, okay?" he said seriously.

He had mimicked what it was I needed to do, his cold fingers reaching up to touch the base of my neck, his shoulder nudging mine.

"Okay."

"Have you ever killed before?"

"No."

He searched my eyes.

"They're still people. Most of them are scared already. But we have animalistic tendencies too. We defend and fight for self-preservation. Nobody wants to die," he said quietly.

"Peter does."

Jasper looked at me. He didn't say anything right away, but then he turned back out to look across the city.

He sighed long and deep. "Peter's just fucked up. He doesn't want to die, but he won't be able to recover, not if she's gone or if she dies. Killing Peter would be the 'humane' thing to do."

He paused. "You're disappointed in him. You're confused, and you think he's a coward."

It was not a question. And at one point I _had_ thought it.

I didn't say anything.

"He's not a coward. He's far from it. He's never run away from anything." Jasper glanced at me. He was defensive.

"He's just scared about what he _thinks_ he'll find. And this...this is Charlotte all over again. If it had happened to any of us, we would be scared too. He doesn't want to die, but he's not afraid of death either. He's just a stubborn son of a bitch. That cunt, though, _she's_ gonna die. One way or the other, she's not gonna fucking see another day." Venom laced his voice and his eyes darkened. Maliciousness poured out of him.

"You love him."

Jasper looked at me and nodded once before he looked back out.

I didn't envy the gift he had. I couldn't imagine what it was like to reign over such a power – to deal with both his own emotions and the emotions of those he was around.

I didn't envy it but I could respect it. I could respect _him_.

"What were you thinking about before I came out? Something has you all twisted up in knots. Is it because you're fraternizing with the enemy?" he asked quietly.

"No, it's not that..." I paused. "I can't hear anything. I can't hear the pack."

He looked at me. "You can't hear their minds," he stated.

"No, I can't. Granted, it's never been tested this far, but it's always seemed limitless. I thought that maybe it was just a coincidence and that no one had phased earlier, but now I'm not so sure."

Jasper looked out again. In the dark he was the perfect picture of menacing and youthful beauty.

He looked just a little older than me, Physically. And a few years younger than Peter. But I knew he probably had an intellect that exceeded the smartest man I ever knew. My father. Granted, he was coarse, but he was also patient and focused.

"It's all some weird ass, fucking shit. I called Bella's phone sixteen fucking times today but I only heard her voice once before the phone went dead. Alice can't see anything else other than that she's alive and in Boquillas. I bet if you picked up the phone and tried to call anyone, you'd meet the same resistance. It's like we're cut off, like _someone_ is pulling all the strings; not that calling for help would do any good, anyways. It'd be too late by the time they got here," he said.

I decided to ask him point blank because he seemed like the only one who was relinquishing anything.

"'_Who's_ pulling the strings? What's this big secret everyone else seems to know but I don't? I mean, I'm in this because...well, because Bella's my...sister. I love her in my own way and I owe it to her. The last thing I said to her was pretty fucked up, and I can't go home and tell Charlie his daughter is dead."

I couldn't. I just couldn't fucking do that.

Jasper looked at me even more solemnly before looking away. He cursed under his breath. "Fuck."

"What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. I envy you, Seth. I wish I was more like you. I wish _others_ were more like you. You have a calming presence, kind of like Bella. I've missed her." he said quietly.

He shook his head, and then sighed morosely under his breath.

"I'm a fighter. I can kill with just a simple touch. I'm a manipulator, and I've used my power to get what I want. But when I've killed because I was careless, or tried to kill those that I love, the only thing I've been good at is running away. I've made the same mistake twice now, and that'll always be with me. I envy you, Seth. I envy you because you're doing something I couldn't. And you don't even have to think that hard about doing it." He looked down, ashamed.

My father always said that two people could never tell the same story, even if they were reading it from a book. It was human nature for everyone to take something different out of it. There were always at least two sides to every story.

"You're talking about Bella," I said.

"And Peter," he answered.

"What happened?"

He didn't answer right away, and he looked at me in a sort of resigned way.

"I killed a man. Alice, Peter, and I had separated to go hunt. Even Alice was pushing her limits. Game was scarce unless you _weren't_ a vegetarian. And that man just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Peter didn't know. He was just...too goddamn gone. My gift is also my curse, Seth. I can feel all of it - the pain, the terror, _all_ of it. That's why I don't kill people anymore. I can feel it all. But the desire..." He exhaled and his eyes glossed. And he cursed again under his breath.

"It breaks me down every goddamn time to the point where I can't even face my wife. But she's always there, picking me back up again, and cleaning up my mess. I left him because he was killing me, and my wife was suffering right along with me. And we left Bella because I couldn't face her, and because it was what my Edward wanted. It's just been mistake after goddamn mistake. So, you see, they have _every_ reason to not want us in their lives. Peter has every reason to be callous, and they both have every reason not to trust us." He was scowling as he looked out, and his lips twisted in a grimace.

I really didn't know what to say. But the fact was he was facing it now. He was trying to do what was right. And we all fuck up sometimes.

"It hurt Bella bad when you all left her, not just Edward. I can't say it was the best decision to leave her, but I can say that she never held you responsible for anything. She wouldn't blame you for leaving because you thought you failed her, but she might blame you for leaving because someone else had asked you to. You were her family too. But we all fuck up sometimes. Even Bella's fucked up. Nobody's perfect."

Jasper looked at me. "You're upset with her?"

"Yeah. She lied to me. Here I was thinking she got herself all happy with a human and it turns out he's just another fucking bloodsucker. At least he doesn't smell like the goddamn Willy Wonka Factory."

It was out of my mouth before I even thought about what I was saying.

"Fuck. I'm sorry about that. I meant _no_ offense."

And I couldn't look at him because that was just…bad.

"None taken, you fucking nut licking, stinky ass piece of shit," he said quietly.

I looked at him. He was kind of smiling at me wryly. It was a welcome comeback. Plus, it was kind of ironic in a way because we were leaning against the rail only a foot apart.

"Hey, I _don't_ lick my nuts. I've resisted the urge."

He laughed quietly and looked at the forest below. It wasn't really a forest, at least not like I was used to.

It was quiet for a moment, but I saw his head move out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was looking at me, so I looked back at him. That fucker gave me the heebie jeebies. He just had a way of make me freak out.

"What?"

Jasper procrastinated for a moment, and then groaned silently under his breath.

"You know how some people say that when they're dying they can see their life flash before their eyes? Well, what if...what if you didn't see yours? What if you saw someone else's?" he asked.

It was a question that came completely out of left field. I'm sure I gave him a look.

"I'm not talking about just key points, like the things we remember the most. What if you saw it all? What if you saw that you were a part of that life because how could you not be, especially when that life had only just begun?" he said quietly. His eyes seemed to plead for me to understand.

I realized he was answering my question.

"You're talking about Peter."

His eyes lit up with an emotion I could not place.

"And Bella. That's as much as I can tell you, Seth, because it is _not_ my right to tell," he ended, looking at me firmly.

I had no fucking clue what to say to that. I had no clue what to think.

Jasper looked over at me and smiled. "I can feel your shock. That's about how I took it too."

"What you're saying is...impossible."

His eyes snapped back to mine. "Is it? You've seen proof yourself, Seth. You _are_ mythological."

"You're telling me that Peter's always been a part of Bella's life because he saw it?"

Jasper looked at me like I had struck gold before he looked up to the sky. "I'm telling you what has driven Peter for the last several years, and I'm just beginning to understand it all myself. Frankly, it scares the shit out of me. I could list off at least a thousand and one reasons why it does, but I could also admire the beauty and the complexity of it all. _If_ it's true. I don't really know. I'm pretty sure Alice has kept a few things from me. But you should know exactly _what_ it is you're fighting for because this is going to change all of our lives. If we live…" He shrugged.

That goddamn fucker said it again.

"If that's the case, if he saw her entire life, why didn't he see _this_?"

There is no way to accurately describe all the thoughts running through my mind or all the things that had been said and done. There was no way for me to label it as impossible. Because I _did_ believe in God. I was raised to believe in ghosts and in evil and legends. I _was_ a legend. But it didn't mean that it didn't slam into me like a wrecking ball. And it sure as hell wasn't the definitive answer I was looking for. But it was an answer nonetheless.

Jasper looked at me as if the answer was obvious. "I don't know. But Peter believes Charlotte changed it. She gave him the sight to see Bella, and then she fucked with fate. But he doesn't know why. At least I don't think he does. For me, the real question is why he saw Bella's."

He was in the water that day because he _knew_ to be there.

Did he know that my father was going to die?

The impossible was a possibility, and I believed I knew the answer to Jasper's question - everything happens for a reason. This was fate.

_"It's her fault. _Charlotte_. She did this."_

"Jesus Christ."

I felt sick, sick to my stomach. There was no way I was going to shit right for at least a week. Plus, I was also rethinking the way I expressed myself.

It was hard to imagine the intricacies involved in such a thing. It was hard to imagine how a mortal man could be blessed by the power of God. Because that's what it would be; a power of _God_.

To yield such power as a mortal would be improbable if not impossible. We didn't excel in patience, and we as a species could praise him and worship him and spread _His_ word, but we didn't always practice what we preached. The majority of the human race didn't live by it. Greed, power, and desire affected us all. Hate and judgment was within all of us; and even the most complex of believers didn't adhere to his words. His _gospel_.

You could take a sixty year old woman whose heart and soul was invested in his word, who sat at a desk every goddamn day reading her bible, which was falling apart because the pages had been turned so much, and still label her as a hypocrite and a hater because she looked down on her coworker because she was black. And you were probably both, too, because you were judging her as a racist bitch and you wondered how she'd feel if you took that Good Book of hers and threw it in a goddamn trash can and lit the fucker on fire because _you_ didn't think she had a right to read it.

As a race, the majority of us probably didn't deserve Heaven, and we probably all should be sent to hell. God has to be awfully forgiving.

We're human, individuals with hearts and souls and free thinking minds, and most of us - if not all of us - were _cold_ in some way.

But we also loved. And love outweighed everything else.

To yield a power that could rule over one would test desires to do so. It would, in essence, drive a mortal man insane and test his strength like nothing else could. He would be sure to ultimately fail in the endeavor.

But maybe an _immortal_ man could succeed. And to _see_ such a thing would create a bond with that person, with Bella, that would rival an imprint. It would take incredible patience and control.

He couldn't feel her anymore because _she_ had given up. Her heart was exclusive for him, but she loved all of us.

I hadn't realized that Jasper had wrapped his hand around my arm in an effort to help me stand. I was going down and I didn't even know it.

"Easy, Seth. Easy."

I looked at Jasper, who was sort of smiling in a way - probably because of my internal epiphany. My heart was growing inside my chest with every passing second.

"Jasper, we can't let her die. We can't let Peter die. I know why he saw Bella's. I know why it was hers."

He sighed through his nose and his face froze in a serious frown. Liquid amber turned hard. "I think I do too."

He pulled on my arm until I was straight again and I leaned on the rail.

"It's her destiny. She was always destined to become a vampire. She met all of you when you came to Forks, but you all left because Edward made his choice. If Peter hadn't been there that day in the water, Victoria would have gotten her, but Jake would have stopped her before it was too late. She would have still bit her and Bella would have been a vampire!"

Jasper let go of my arm. "If Edward had made the choice not to suck the venom out in Phoenix, she would have changed then. And I know both of them. I _feel_ them. They complement each other. What one misses, the other one has. Peter and Bella are soulmates," he reasoned.

"It's always been her destiny. The town klutz was always meant to be an immortal."

"She's been fucked from the get-go. But maybe there's a reason we're all supposed to _be_," he said.

We both just looked at each other.

"It's just not that simple, is it?" I asked.

"No."

But it wasn't Jasper who answered. The answer came from the left, from the garden on the side of the house.

I was still looking at Jasper, whose face fell just enough to tell me that even he hadn't known Peter was there.

How long he had been there was the question.

When I looked over he was standing in the middle of the raised garden next to a large stone.

"But it's still her fate. Everything happens for a reason," I said.

Peter jumped down out of the garden and ghosted over as Jasper spoke. "It's still not that simple, Seth."

Peter's face was still drawn and hard and his eyes were still scarred, black, dull globes of death. He didn't come close. He stood off about ten feet, near the hot tub, and he was staring at Jasper. There was some kind of emotion on his face, but it was neither angry or resentful. It was...nothing. It was like he had something to say to the guy but he didn't know how to put it.

And I respected him more than ever. He couldn't lose her. There was no way I could ever consider these people to be my enemies ever again.

I looked at Jasper. "Why the fuck not? I mean, let's look at this from a hypothetical standpoint."

I was talking fucking hypotheticals with vampires about fate and God. There was something _still_ really wrong with that.

Or maybe it was right.

"Right now Bella's fate is dangling in the goddamn air, but your girl was right. Fate is what we make of it." I looked at Peter. "_You_ of all people should know that. I watched you change it that day in the water. You should have never been there, and if you hadn't have been, Bella would have been _at_ _least_ bitten, if not killed. But she wouldn't have been killed because Jake and Sam were there. I don't think she would have died. Well, at least...you know, _died _died. And if Cullen thought, well...I don't know what he thought, but she was well on her way when he sucked out the venom. But if he hadn't have, she would have been a bloodsucker. It's her fate."

Peter and Jasper just looked at me like I was stupid.

"What are you trying to say, Seth?" Peter asked as he side-stepped on his feet. He seemed a little fucking irritated. His lips twitched.

"I'm saying it's her fate. I'm saying she's not dead, and she isn't going to die until you kill that bitch who took her and bite Bella." I shook my head in frustration because I said the wrong thing. "I mean, she's not gonna die. You're gonna bite her, and she's still going to be _her_, she'll just be different is all. Everything happens for a reason, and there's a reason why the past is repeating itself. But the outcome is Bella will _still_ live."

Peter gave no indication that he was getting what I was trying to say. I couldn't express well enough what I was trying to say.

Jasper seemed to get it, though. "Hypothetically, if we chose not to act, your thinking is that something else would happen that would cause Bella to turn, no matter what."

I had to think about it because I really wasn't that sure.

"Doing nothing at all might very well kill her. But maybe. It's not like we're gonna test that fucking theory, ya know? I'm saying that if he's been a part of her life since the beginning, then _he_ is her fate no matter what. I'm saying that you can't lose, and we're here to make sure that you don't. This is fate right here. You're planning on crashing a plane and rescuing your girl. I'm planning to bend over and kiss my ass goodbye. You _can't_ lose. This...you and Bella...this is the fight worth fighting."

I watched the grin spread across Jasper's face. He already knew it was.

"You have no idea how much I wish it was that simple. But it's not, Seth," Peter said quietly, looking down and away.

But I believed it was. "I think you're wrong. And I think you of all people need to have a little faith. Fate is what _you_ make of it."

I watched the liquid in those black globes of death harden as they looked at me. Nobody had to tell me that at that moment he was fucking thinking about murder. It was all in the way his body tensed.

I ignored it.

As I had talked, I had also thought, and I knew that if this were all true, then that day in the water was _not_ the first time Peter had probably interfered with fate. I looked at him.

"You were in the water that day, but it's not the first time you changed fate, is it?" I asked.

The murder in Peter's eyes fell away and he looked down. He didn't answer me right away.

"No. I believe I've saved her from certain death, Seth, that's why it's not that simple. But this time, I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know what I'm going to find. For the last nineteen years I've felt a pull to her heart that's defined me in every way possible. And now it's gone," he said a little heatedly.

"When? When did it leave your heart?" I asked.

He just looked at me. I had to wonder if his mind was just as glazed over as his eyes were. The red scarring on his lids looked permanent.

Maybe it was because he lost his heart. Maybe it was because he'd shed tears when he wasn't supposed to. Maybe…maybe it was because he had _seen_. Maybe it was because after this he'd never be the same again. He would have to look in the mirror and never take anything for granted again.

"Out in the desert, before we got to you and Debbie. I heard her scream," he said quietly.

I walked a bit closer to him, which was probably foolish, but I didn't think he had it in him to do anything to me.

"Look, I don't know if I'm talking out of my ass here, but...maybe, maybe the reason you can't feel her anymore is because a part of her _did_ die."

Peter's lips twitched and Jasper stepped away from the rail to come closer. "What do you mean?"

I looked between both of them. "I was playing dead when Maria pulled her out of the truck. Debbie was fucked up already when that bloodsucker pulled _her_ out. Maybe the reason why he can't feel Bella anymore is because she couldn't take it. I think she thought we were dead. Maybe she thought she was gonna die. If you have a connection to Bella, then what's to say she doesn't have a connection to you too? Maybe she gave up. Maybe that's what cut it. Maybe when she decides to quit dying and start living, you'll feel it again. You know Bella better than any of us do. She'd take it to heart."

Jasper and I both were looking at Peter, and if I hadn't seen his shoulders fall just an infinitesimal amount, I would have wondered if he had even heard me. He was looking right through me at first, but the scowl on his face fell away. He looked kind of soft. His eyes still looked freaky.

"Seth, you're a genius," Peter whispered.

But I had to wonder if he believed it. Or if he was just trying to appease me.

He looked at me for another second before he looked at Jasper. He said nothing else, and then he turned away to walk into the house.

I decided to go ahead and ask the question that I was holding back, although I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.

"Can I ask you a question?"

He paused at the door. "What?"

"Did you know…did you know my father was going to die?"

And I could not hold it back. _Fuck._

He didn't turn around. His head bowed.

"It was the way it was supposed to be. Just like Bella's mother. I don't know why God took them so early in life, but you're right; everything does happen for a reason. There's a paradox here, Seth. In a future I used to know, you would not be standing here, and we would not be having this conversation. But your father was still dead, and so was Renee. We should all be so lucky to be human, and we should all be so lucky to die. I'm sorry," Peter ended firmly.

It _was_ the way it was supposed to be. It was the natural order of things. It was _life_. Even if he could have delayed it, there was no escaping the inevitable. My dad would have gone a few more weeks, with a few more rounds of fish batter and beer, and his heart would have still quit.

But Peter wouldn't have even tried to delay it - not just because it was my father's time, but because his focus was Bella. And I knew he threw that part in about her mother to tell me that.

It had to have taken a superior amount of control and an unsurpassed amount of patience not to interfere with her life or aspects of it. It was a little unbelievable that he hadn't. It just didn't seem like a power anyone but God should be blessed with.

I didn't know what else to say. "Thank you. Thank you."

He opened the door, but he paused midway in and he turned to look at me. "You know it wasn't your or Leah's fault, right?" he asked, his voice raw.

I nodded and swallowed. "Yeah. I've blamed it on God and genetics."

He stared at me for a moment with hard eyes before he nodded. "We have a lot in common, you and me." His head turned and I knew he was looking at Jasper. "Help him," he said quietly. But then his head turned to the right.

I wasn't quite sure why he said that.

We could all hear the low purr of an accelerating engine as it climbed uphill on the road outside. "Alice is back. Let's go." Peter walked inside.

I suppose he was telling Jasper to take away my pain or something, but I already had a grasp on the shit. It was just a matter of wiping my face and not letting myself fall apart. God knows I already had on countless occasions.

I heard Jasper move. He walked up behind me and grabbed my shoulder - my right one, the one that had been impaled by a piece of goddamn windshield frame. I winced before the pain was gone, and then my heart swelled with relief, and energy. That was the only way to describe it. But the grief was still there. He couldn't erase thoughts, and some feelings could never be erased. But he was circumventing it into something else.

"You're fine," he said as he moved. He smiled a fucked up smile. The bloodsucker was fucking evil.

"You fucker, that hurt. How the fuck am I gonna jump out of a plane and not die?" I asked. He was walking towards the door and I followed him. I was looking between him and Peter, who ghosted to the back of the house through the kitchen.

"The less we tell you now, the better. Have faith, Seth. It'll be okay." He laughed.

We walked inside the house just as the car pulled into the drive. Peter flitted out from the hallway. He had changed his shirt, which had been covered with desert dust and the venom of a dead bloodsucker. He was now wearing a black, long sleeve shirt, similar to Jasper's.

Alice entered, carrying a red backpack and a duffle bag, both of which were stuffed full. She glanced at her husband before she dropped the backpack and flitted back to the bedroom, where Garrett was whispering quietly to a whimpering Debbie. I couldn't make out the words.

Peter sat down on the sofa to put on a pair of brown and suede hikers. Jasper grabbed his boots, which were sitting by the brown recliner. He sat down next to Peter and the two vamps put their shoes on.

Alice came out from the back of the house. She had something black in her hand and she grabbed the backpack with the other. I was standing by the brown recliner when she moved over to me. She looked a little distraught.

"I grabbed a couple pairs of everything, including a pair of sandals that were in your suitcase. There's a change of clothes in here for Bella too. Plus a first aid kit. We'll take it with us," she said. She looked over to Peter and Jasper, and I swore for a second she beamed between the two of them.

I didn't want to ruin it for her, but there wasn't any shit solved there; unless one could count Jasper's promise to obliterate Peter if Bella died.

I smiled at her. "Thanks."

She looked up at me and her face dropped in concern. She was about to say something when Jasper spoke.

"Did you see anything, Alice?" he asked. Peter stood up in a flash and looked at her.

"No. Nothing," she said quietly, and she moved around me. "Peter, come here."

He jumped over the coffee table and Alice met him halfway. He was looking at the item in her hand, which was a stocking cap. His face softened, but not the eyes so much. His lips kind of pursed and his jaw relaxed a bit.

"Bend down, please?" she asked, a lilt in the tinkling bells of her voice. He immediately acquiesced and bent his head down so she could put it on.

"Bella has had some really stellar fantasies about you in this cap," Alice said, laughing a little. "Some things I _really_ could have gone without seeing." She tucked his hair underneath it and behind his ears. "Let her see you in it. Let her see you kill that _bitch_ with Jasper. He deserves his chance, too, okay?" she ended, emotion thickening her voice.

He kept his head lowered, but he looked at her as she nodded at him. His lips were pursed and his jaw trembled. It was nearly a silent answer that escaped his lips. "Of course."

She palmed his cheek and rubbed the tops of his eyelids with the pads of her fingers. "It's going to be alright. You're going to make it that way. But let's go. Every second is a second too long that she's alone with that bitch," she seethed out in a subdued way.

She let go of him as his lips twisted in pent up fury and he nodded at her.

I had been so engrossed in the exchange between Alice and Peter that I hadn't noticed that a whimpering Debbie had grown closer. When I turned around, Garrett was there with Debbie in his arms, and Jasper had moved to stand to the side of them, beside her head.

She was awake and her eyes were filled with unimaginable pain and horror. She was dressed in just a white, button down shirt that was much too large, but it covered her. She was bare underneath. She was soaking wet with perspiration, and Jasper had the fingers of both his hands in her hair while his forehead pressed against the back of her head.

His eyes were closed. His fingers twitched.

Debbie was breathing manically, her jaw locked down, and she was making this constant, throaty, gulping sound. She was trying to keep herself from screaming. Whatever Jasper was doing was having little effect. What was so disturbing was her skin. It was as if all her blood vessels were rising to the surface

What used to be creamy colored skin with a touch of sun was now pale and grotesque. An intricacy of red and blue marred her. Her body was changing. She was hardening and turning to rock right before my very eyes.

Peter went over to her. Debbie's eyes had been on him, and Garrett spoke as Peter kissed her cheek.

"You've got twelve hours. Bring her home so she can say goodbye," he told him seriously.

"I will." Peter hugged Garrett, crushing Debbie between them; but Garrett's arms were full, so it wasn't like he could hug him back. He just turned his head into Peter's shoulder.

Peter let go and shot off through the alcove to the front door. And I don't quite know why - maybe because it was time to go or maybe because the calm that had been sitting quietly over the house seemed to dissipate and it filled with urgency, fury, and maliciousness - but I could hear the door being ripped away from its hinges. The damn thing hit the floor with a whack that rang in my ears. Whatever precarious control he had had on his faculties was just gone.

Or maybe because Jasper just finally let him _feel_ what was in him all along. The guy looked up, and there was a grin spreading across his lips. That son of a bitch looked more evil than ever.

Alice grabbed my arm and pulled me forward. "She can't talk. And she's less than coherent, but she _is_ aware. Kiss her for luck. Because she is lucky, more than you realize."

Alice went first, kissing Debbie after she smiled at her. Debbie's wide eyes looked at her curiously but seemed to still plead for the same thing as before. For death. She kissed Garrett, and then turned back to go pick up the backpack.

I approached her slowly. Garrett's eyes were a little weary. I had to touch her skin. I wanted to know if I could feel the burn through it, so I palmed her cheek. Her skin was cool, clammy, and firm. It made my lips tingle when I kissed her forehead.

And she smelled just a little sweeter than before. Like maple and rain.

The gulping sound deep within her throat picked up a little, and her upper body shook with the effort not to scream. But she did something extraordinary. She tried to smile at me, so I smiled back.

It was more than enough to tell me that she did want to live.

We walked out the front door - Alice, Jasper, and I - and into the heat of the night. We moved into the unknown. But there was energy in the air, and it seemed to push me towards fate and a fight worth fighting.

I knew one thing, though. My entire life - the future I had planned for myself - had changed.

It was for the better.


	23. Chapter 22 LLDW Part II The Skythe

Chapter 22. Let Loose the Dogs of War.

Part II: The Scythe.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

When I would later tell Bella my side of the story—what happened in those minutes before the world seemed to crash down on her—I would tell her that getting on that plane was the best thing I ever did.

Of course, at the time it was anything but. But shit happens.

I would also tell her that I saw more than one miracle. I saw hate, but I saw honor and love at its finest. True heroism, is acknowledging your weaknesses.

Peter knew he would not fail.

Peter didn't need the glory, he only needed Bella.

************Prelude End******************  
**

"You have got to be fucking kidding me."

"What? What did you expect? Something bigger?" Jasper asked.

"No, I think he expected something we'd have to wind up. Is that right?" Alice asked. She looked a little nervous herself, but she looked excited too.

"Your girl is right." But I had somehow lost the ability to speak like a man. I cleared my throat.

"I was expecting a... Aww, hell. I don't know _what_ the fuck I was expecting. A turbo prop or something. You know, propellers…something that goes _slow_…a puddle jumper. But not this. Not a _jet_. Not a missile on wheels."

We were walking across the tarmac at Santa Fe's airport, northeast of the main terminal for the public, which was about half a mile away. We were surrounded by a grouping of hangars, which housed freight planes and Medi-Vac choppers for the local hospitals. There were three men working on a chopper, one of those Airwolf-looking helicopters. It was broke.

I was walking between the two vamps – an empath who wasn't doing shit to alleviate my fears, and a broken fortune teller who put Johnny Klebitz and the entire cast of Grand Theft Auto to fucking shame.

It had been a quiet ride to Santa Fe from Peter's house. Peter and Jasper hardly talked to each other as they sat in the bed of the Camino.

Alice had regaled me with the tale of how the Camino had come into their possession. According to her, Jasper had used his talent 'the more constructive way'. While he was the distraction, she had slipped inside the Camino, and coasted it up to the end of the main building where she waited for Jasper.

He went above and beyond the call of duty.

Somewhere in the city was a beaner who was probably up in arms because he was questioning his own sexual preference and trying to figure out who had stolen his piece-of-shit car. One look from Jasper had had him creaming his pants as Alice plucked the keys from his pocket.

Alice said it was love at first sight.

Evidently the pickings were pretty thin in the drop-off lane at the airport. It was either the Camino or coercing some grandma out of her brand new Buick. In the end, giving grandma even a little O 'just seemed wrong', according to Alice.

The bloodsucker had some serious fucking talent.

After we went through a checkpoint, Peter had gone through the side door in the hangar we had parked next to. The main doors were still open, and the hangar housed three other planes. Two larger turbo props and another, older jet. It was a corporate parking lot of sorts.

The heat was stifling. Even for me. It was heavy, and so was the weight that seemed to sit on my heart. Heavy because it was pure dread, and fear.

Standing before us was fifteen tons of quiet, steel death. The high pitch hum of the plane wasn't overly loud and obnoxious; not like the roar coming from the other side of the tarmac, where an airbus was taxiing up to the main runway to take off.

"She's a Dassault. Almost brand new. The bigger model is actually cheaper than this one. This one flies at MACH one," Jasper said, almost reverently. There was a glint in his eyes.

He thought it was _pretty_.

I thought it was pretty, too. Pretty fucked up. I was walking towards the scythe's scythe, ironically enough.

She was a 'she' because the plane had Bella all over it, and it was obvious Jasper saw it the same way I did.

Bella must have been constantly in Peter's mind; even when he had bought his surface-to-air missile.

Her name was HOP913. I didn't quite get the HOP part, but Bella's birthday was there. Her wing stretched about seventy feet. She had innovative wing tips, which were also flaps, and they would fold up in flight. She would _soar_. And it was just _one_ wing; the rest of the plane had been built on it.

She was thin, almost frail looking, but the air was no enemy. There were eight small portholes in the belly, and her nose dropped. Six windows surrounded the cockpit.

She was an aerodynamic piece of machinery. She was built for speed. She wasn't built to just glide through the air. She was built to _cut_ through it.

Two quiet engines sat on both sides of the tail. They weighted her down while they pushed her forward. The tail had been pimped out with her name and a red and black tribal swan in flight. The feathers on her wings were blades. The swan was on the hunt to kill.

The plane was white and trimmed in red striping. It was the color of blood.

The plane looked angry. The swan's eyes seemed to follow us the closer and closer we got, until finally she was looking down on us.

The bitch looked hungry.

The doorway was over the wing, fifteen feet in the air. The engines were primed, and though they had been quiet from afar, the ball bearings and pistons screamed and whined. A small, rolling staircase was seated next to the plane and over the wing.

Jasper and Alice wasted no time going up the steps. I, on the other hand, had to pause at the edge of the stairs. I had an Ann Darrow moment.

My whole life had changed already, but who was to say I wouldn't find my own fate once we reached our destination? It wasn't a question of me going, it was just making my legs work to take that step and seal my fate, I suppose.

I was scared; scared of dying. But Ann Darrow had nothing on this. _My_ monsters were real. There would be no giant ape to coddle me or molest my boobs. And if _my_ monsters bit me, it would mean death.

Jasper was at the top of the stairs and he paused. Alice had disappeared through the door ahead of him, but he turned around. He was frowning a little bit, but he slowly walked down the six steps it took for him to reach me at the bottom step, until he was eye level with me.

He studied me for a moment, his amber eyes searching mine, before he leaned in a little to yell in my ear. "Letting you _not_ feel it would be wrong!" He paused and grinned a bit. "Plus it quenches the fight in you! We're all afraid! We're _supposed_ to be!"

I could only think of one thing to say. There was one thing I hadn't yet accomplished in life.

"I've never had sex!"

He laughed, and then he paused with a grin on his face. "You will! Trust me! Making love with a woman for the first time has _nothing_ on this! It's more frightening because it comes from here, not there! At least it _should_!" Jasper had tapped my chest and my head.

I nodded at him.

Jasper chuckled, to himself. "He's not going to let anything happen to you, and neither will I. You have my word! Bella isn't his only worry, and he excels in adversity. He thrives on it!" he said, somewhat passionately.

Jasper snapped his head towards Peter, who was walking across the tarmac at an almost inhuman pace. He had something lumpy…with buckles…slung over his back.

I paid no attention to it. I was too caught up in the fact that my heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest.

"Come on!" He tilted his head towards the plane and stuck his hand up and out. I grabbed it as he stepped up.

He did not pull me, though. I stepped up on my own.

I had to cram myself through the door, but the inside of the plane was spacious enough. The walls were a thin and polished taupe Formica with tapestry, and there was a small black couch upon which Alice was seated on the end on the right side of the plane.

The cockpit was immediately to the front, with two black marble barrier walls behind the seats and a passage narrow enough that even Peter would have trouble getting through. There were five wide, beige, leather chairs. Four sat on the left side of the plane. Two were paired up in the front next to the couch, and the other two were facing each other with a table between them towards the back. The fifth chair sat behind the couch, towards the galley. It had its own small table, which was attached to the side of the aircraft. A small doorway led to a galley, and probably a lavatory at the back of the plane. There was plenty of foot room, but I had to hunch my shoulders and keep my head lowered; even in the center.

The cockpit looked standard enough. It housed two seats with integrated control wheels and sticks, a GPS, radar, and a throttle in the middle. There were digital and LED monitors for each seat, with artificial horizons and altimeters with speed indicators, and a whole bunch of buttons and gauges all labeled in a language I couldn't read.

Jasper stepped back out as Peter climbed the steps. They were pushing the staircase back and away from the plane. Someone else had come to pull it away.

I sat down in the front seat across from Alice as Jasper and Peter squeezed in through the door. Peter secured the door, air hissing from the hydraulics as it sealed.

I finally noticed the black sack and the harness he had thrown at my feet. It was pretty obvious to me what it was at that point.

Peter turned to face me. Scarred, black globes of death stared into my eyes.

He jutted his chin at the same time he spoke. "Seth, stand up," he said quietly.

"You're putting me into a chute? How the fuck does that help anything? I won't be on the ground. I won't be able to..."

"It saves your life!" he growled, his voice scratchy. "I don't need _you_. I don't need you dead. This is the only way you're going in. Take it or leave it, but if you leave it, get the fuck off my plane," he snapped.

He paused and sighed through his nose, looking away.

"I don't need your blood on my hands. She wouldn't forgive me for that, and I probably wouldn't forgive myself either," he ended quietly. He was a quivering mess, full of fury and fear.

Maybe he didn't need me, but if he really felt that way he wouldn't have let me come in the first place.

"Seth, it's the only way you'll survive. Even if one of us jumped with you, it would still kill you. You don't have a choice," Jasper said seriously. He was standing next to Peter.

Both of them stared at me and waited, though Peter was itching to get the hell out of there already.

"I guess I'll just have to float down to earth while I twiddle my fucking thumbs," I told them. But I didn't move.

They just looked at me and said nothing.

"It's better than every bone in your body snapping while all your organs explode. I'm sure Bella would _love_ to see your brain matter scattered all over the ground, Seth." Alice said firmly.

I sighed and stood up. Peter bent down to grab the harness after piercing me with a look that had so much hostility I felt a shiver run down my spine.

I had news for Alice and Bella - that cap he was wearing didn't flatter him at all. The fucker just looked scary.

Peter and Jasper started to unbuckle and unclasp some of the holds as they tried to figure out how I was supposed to put the goddamn thing on.

"Bend down," Peter ordered as I put my head through the hole that was supposed to hold my head. "This is a double elliptical. When we jump, it's gonna jerk the hell out of you not once, but twice. It'll cut your speed of descent by seventy-five percent, but you're still gonna hit the ground fast and hard. You phase before you do and not a moment before. When you hit the ground you stay on my ass. You got it?"

He leveled me with just one stare.

"How fast?"

Both Jasper and Peter were on my sides, adjusting the straps that crisscrossed over my back and buckling the strap that went across my chest. Peter was already starting to unbuckle the leg straps by the time I asked my question.

"How fast will you hit the ground? I don't know. Hopefully you won't shatter both your kneecaps."

And he wasn't joking either. That fucker was _not_ in a joking mood. Peter squatted down and knocked my legs apart. Alice gave her husband a wary look.

"That's encouraging."

Jasper just looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "One minute you're afraid to die, and then the next you can't wait. Now you're afraid again. You should be. Do as we tell you, understand?"

He wouldn't take no for an answer, but he didn't wait for one either.

Peter already had both sides buckled, and I had to adjust my sac because one of the straps was pinching my balls, which I had thought somehow retracted into some cavity up inside my belly.

I wanted down on the ground. I wanted to fight. I wanted to kill. But I didn't want to die getting there. It just took me a minute to realize that I was being stupid. The thing that got me the most was that at some point the two had obviously talked and were now working in unison to secure my fate, at least from the fall anyway.

The mood had drastically changed, but not so much the air. It was full of tension, full of fear.

I looked at Alice. The red backpack that she had taken from Bella's closet and filled with clothes for the both of us was sitting next to her.

"Got pom poms in that bag? I can cheer from five hundred feet."

Peter had turned around and was hunkered down, squeezing himself into the cockpit. Alice giggled and Jasper smiled wryly as he turned around to follow Peter in.

"What about the chute?" They had only put the harness on. The parachute still had to be clipped to the buckles.

"We'll put it on later. You can't sit in it," Jasper said, glancing back.

He was barely in his seat when Peter throttled up, causing the engines to keen with new purpose. I sat down and buckled my seatbelt.

"If it makes you feel any better, I wish I was wearing it," Alice whined.

"Are you scared?" I asked as she buckled her own seatbelt.

"Of course. It isn't like... Ohhh, God," Alice breathed out.

And just like that, everything changed.

Her eyes glazed over and she froze in her seat. Her mouth fell slack.

"Alice?"

Whatever Jasper felt from her caused him to turn around in his seat up front to look through the space at her. We had both said her name at the same time. The plane started moving. I didn't know anything about how her gift worked, but it was obvious she wasn't quite with us anymore.

Alice was having a vision.

Jasper looked at her hard, and then he unbuckled his seatbelt and started to climb out of his seat.

"Is she having a vision? Are you having a vision?" I asked. She didn't move. Her face started to change at a constant rate. Her eyebrows furrowed, and then she looked like she was starting to panic.

Alice started shaking, and it wasn't just because the plane had started to bounce around. It was because whatever she was seeing was frightening her. Her lips started to tremble, and then it all changed within the matter of a second. Her eyes went fierce and her lips parted. She exposed her teeth.

I would never again question if the cute, little shit could ever be a threat because the growl that left her chest was eardrum-splitting. I was suddenly very afraid that I was sitting too close.

It all ended within another instant—the instant Jasper grabbed her hand. She blinked and it was over.

She was breathing hard. I looked up front and saw that Peter was driving the plane blind. His own fierce gaze was locked on Alice and he was trembling.

She started looking frantically around. It was almost as if she wanted to see more. "I saw her! I saw Bella! They're in Boquillas! She's alive," she breathed out. Her eyes met her husband's, and he was looking at her critically.

She glared at him and slapped his hand away from hers. "What the fuck did you touch me for? Goddamn it, Jasper!" she sobbed out thickly.

Jasper made a face but ignored her outburst. "Alice, what did you see?"

She swallowed back—venom probably—and she looked really disturbed. Her eyes were searching frantically, searching to see more. "They're on top of the canyon. Bella is hurt. It's her head. Maybe a concussion or something..." Alice shook her head. "They just got there."

She looked at Peter. "Get us in the air and add Carlos to your list of primary targets - not that he wasn't on it in the first place," she said thickly.

Jasper narrowed his eyes. "You're seeing the present, not the future. What happened?"

Peter was on the radio, talking with the tower, but I paid him no attention.

Alice looked at Jasper and mouthed, "He _touched_ her."

"What did you say?" he asked. Jasper's eyes pinned Alice. There was a threat in his voice, but it didn't sound like it was for her. His eyes went from butterscotch to black almost instantly.

Alice looked at him meaningfully, and then glanced up at Peter in the cockpit.

Peter was bent over the center console and looking at Alice. It looked like a mortar had gone off in his head.

The air thickened and I heard a noise. It was a tinkling sound, and it was coming from somewhere close by. I looked down at my leg. A couple of the buckles were striking together because I was shaking.

But it wasn't fear I felt, and I was sure the incident that happened back at the house when we first walked into it had nothing on this.

Jasper looked like the Grim Reaper's brother. Like he was about to snap some poor fucker in half because someone had just touched his brother's scythe.

You don't stroke the scythe - not unless she's yours to stroke.

Alice looked like she was about to de-nut any motherfucker with a set of balls.

"_HOP913, say your traffic again?"_

"HOP913 requesting immediate runway clearance on three-two for takeoff and rapid ascent to fifty thousand on heading 1-4-0!" Peter yelled, half growling.

I hoped whoever the unlucky asshole was on the other end told him yes because Peter was already pushing the throttle forward and heading towards whatever runway he had to take off from.

The plane even jerked, and Jasper looked once more at his wife before he moved back up into the cockpit.

"_HOP913, stand by for clearance for rapid ascent up to nine-point-four-seven on heading 1-4-0 from ZAB-AC."_

I couldn't see him, but I could hear him.

"Get bent, you fucker. I'm going." There was fear in his voice.

Alice laid her head back against the wall. "She's fine, Peter. She's a little scared, but she's fine," she whispered.

Even if Jasper hadn't turned his head to look at Alice, I still would have known she was full of shit.

Bella was anything but fine.

I looked at Alice. "I thought you couldn't see if I was around?"

She looked at me with terror in her eyes. "I didn't think I could either." She said in an unsure way.

And maybe she shouldn't have seen it. She seemed to realize it too.

"Is she okay?" I mouthed.

Alice's eyes were so full of pain and glossed with moisture that it was kind of sad she couldn't cry.

"No," she mouthed. She looked at me with meaning and put her hand over her heart.

I looked back up front. Jasper was turned in his seat and looking through the space at the both of us. It was the same look he had given us in the car - the look that leveled you into shutting the fuck up.

And I suppose Alice didn't need to add any more fuel to Peter's fire because this bitch was already loaded down with plenty.

I was sitting inside a bomb and Bella was smack dab right in the middle of hell.

"_HOP913, you're cleared for runway three-two with rapid ascent up to nine-point-four on 1-4-0. Contact ROSAC on the Roswell departure. Switch to 2-3."_

"Copy. 2-3."

Peter, though, was already lining us up with the runway, and that momentary pause that all planes seem to take when they're lined up to await final clearance was nonexistent.

The engines keened and the high velocity sound from the turbofans roared inside the cabin from outside. That knot that you get inside your belly when a plane starts to accelerate down the runway was already there, but it was churning and growing. And it wasn't necessarily because of the takeoff.

Every little crack and every little bump in the runway was felt in the pit of my stomach. I was never more thankful that I had burned off dinner what now seemed ages ago.

The world outside blurred by in darkness and light as I looked out the port window, and when her nose went up I shut the goddamn slat. The tires left the ground and we were climbing.

Alice had to put her left hand down out of reflex to hold her stationary because the plane's nose had angled up even more and we were climbing at an almost seventy-degree angle. We looked at each other and she rolled her eyes as she widened them.

"Jesus Christ."

That knot was now in the center of my chest. I could hear the exhaust from the turbofans, and the high keening faded until it was just a high drone, like a growl, as the air displaced in the wake of turbulence behind the plane. My ears were plugging up and I was popping my jaw at an almost constant rate.

I watched Peter's hand push on the throttle until it couldn't be pushed any further. The wing dipped sharply on the left side and we turned towards the southeast.

The turns were always the worst. There was nothing like dangling sideways, hundreds, if not thousands of feet in the air, and strapped into a seat with a tiny and slippery strap. There was no one on this earth who would be fucking capable of getting me into another plane ever again. I knew that then, and we hadn't even jumped out of it yet.

We hadn't yet _crashed_.

My stomach had found residence inside my throat, and it stayed there for the next eight minutes.

No one said a word.

Eventually, it was Alice who broke the silence. I had been concentrating on the pattern of the marble in the partition.

"Don't tell her." It was just the slightest of whispers.

When I looked at her, she had her eyes closed and she was gritting her teeth together so hard that I could hear them knock together as she trembled. The consuming fear on her face was accentuated by her fingers, which were digging into the flesh of the couch.

"Alice?"

She shook her head. She cracked a smile, but then it faded.

"Jasper," I called.

He turned in his seat. We were still climbing, but we were also leveling off a little. I motioned to his girl with my head.

He looked at her long and hard before glancing back at me and nodding slightly. Jasper turned back towards the front. I could see a little bit outside the cockpit windows in the front, but there wasn't anything to see other than darkness. The plane was vibrating, and a slight shimmy moved throughout the belly the higher we climbed.

I looked back at Alice when I noticed her head shaking in my peripheral vision. Then she groaned. It was obvious she was with Bella, but she was giving nothing away.

Ten seconds later she snapped out of it.

"Peter, how long until we get there?" she asked thickly. The worry that was pouring out of her was palpable.

"Forty-five minutes," he answered numbly, quietly.

Alice swallowed. She was breathing hard. "Can you cut it down?"

"No, not unless you want me to kill us before we ever get there," Peter shot back. If he was looking at her, I couldn't see it.

"You've got to hurry. She's making rash decisions, _foolish_ ones. She's scared. She's in _pain_. You've got to…"

She cut off. It was amazing to see the way it struck her, but it was also fucking weird and a little fucking scary.

And aggravating.

It was almost as if she was possessed, and any second I was expecting her to say, 'I'm not Alice anymore,' in a Children of the Corn child's voice.

"Dude, is it always like this?" I asked Jasper.

He was looking back at her again, which was why I asked.

"Yeah..." he answered in an unsure way.

"Oh, _God._" Alice said breathlessly beside me. Her eyes were wide.

"Well, it's freaking me the fuck out."

Jasper seemed conflicted. He grimaced terribly, but he made the decision to ask.

"Alice...what do you see?"

She could not answer him because she was too busy letting out the most inhuman, blood curdling scream I had ever heard. It wasn't just a scream of horror, but a scream of madness and fury of which I never knew a woman was capable, even if she was a vampire.

It scared the shit out of me so bad that I had unconsciously taken my seat belt off and scurried back into the partition behind Peter's seat, nearly crashing into it. I almost phased.

All hell broke loose.

Alice sobbed and growled very loudly with anger in her eyes. The plane dropped a little, but the nose came back up and we continued climbing. A moment later, Peter was out of his seat and standing directly beside me.

Somewhere in his head a bomb went off, and that fucker had to have been nuclear because Peter looked crazed. Any second I was expecting a mushroom plume made of fire and steam to come out of the top of his head. He looked like he was about to commit bloody murder, and he was looking right at Alice.

"Stop it. Right fucking now," he growled. His body trembled like he was chilled to the bone. He looked at her and then window beside her, and I had to wonder if he was thinking about throwing her out. The sad thing was, she'd fit.

"Maria fucking hit her. She's..."Alice sobbed and choked loudly. She was completely distraught.

"Is her heart still beating?!"

"Yes…no...I don't _know_!" she sobbed.

"Don't. Don't say another fucking word. Don't say anything. I don't want to know the future. Don't tell me what I'm going to find before..." He choked. Jasper was out of his seat and trying to come out of the cockpit just as Peter's body decided it was time to take a nosedive.

I caught him by his arm, but he was too heavy and we were both going down. Jasper had to squirm his way around Peter to lift him up by his shoulders, and then we pushed him up against the partition.

"Stop it. Stop it now!'" Jasper growled in Peter's face. He was beyond pissed. "Nothing has changed, right? Right?!"

Jasper was gripping Peter's jaw, lifting his head up and making it a point for Peter to look at him.

I had one arm wrapped securely around Peter's waist, holding him up, and my hand was making contact with Jasper's body in the process. Jasper was using his body to press against the rest of Peter. I don't know if it was because Jasper was angry, or if it was because hostility had swallowed all the air which had previously been calm, or maybe it was because I was locked in beside the two of them and the proximity had something to do with it, but whatever it was, my cells were firing and I could feel the tingle all the way down to the tips of my toes.

And I felt something else - something I wish I had never felt. I felt _Peter_. I felt his soul, and there was no pain I could ever suffer that would ever compare to the utter devastation that was rolling out of him.

It made me wonder how he could fight at all.

Peter groaned and sobbed in response, and he looked at Jasper hopelessly. I had to wonder how Jasper could deal with it himself. He was feeling everything and everyone, along with what he was allowing himself to feel. And it looked like Peter was trying to swallow Jasper up and take him with him wherever he went.

Maybe he wasn't dealing well with it at all. Maybe that's why for a moment he had projected what was in Peter's heart.

Jasper groaned under his breath. His eyes softened, but they were on their way to turning completely black.

"I know you don't want to know, but we need to know. It can help us, and that can help Bella. Get a hold on it. Now." he told him quietly but firmly.

Peter swallowed, but he gave no indication that he had even heard Jasper.

Jasper's eyes looked to the right for a moment before he looked back at Peter.

"Alice. Talk."

Alice had been watching the entire scene from her seat with wide eyes, and worry was consuming her.

"I know _exactly_ where she is. She's in the very same pit. It's all the _same_. Maria is with her. Carlos is across the canyon. There are seventeen on the flat mesa by the other pit, and at least two on the ridge behind them. They're looking for you, watching in every direction, but they're not looking at the _sky_," she said, looking at Peter and nodding at him.

We still had him locked up against the partition. Jasper was watching Peter. "What else?"

Alice swallowed. "Bella's making decisions. She doesn't know Jasper's here. She doesn't know we're _all_ coming. Her idea is to die before you show your face. She's thinking that if she pisses Maria off enough, she can get Maria to kill her before you get there. For a second, she even thought she could make it to the edge and jump. She just succeeded at pissing her _off_."

Jasper's curiosity got the better of him. She certainly had _my_ attention. He raised his eyebrows at Peter, who, oddly enough, seemed curious himself.

"How did she do that?" Jasper asked.

Alice breathed out. "Oh…well...Bella threw your infidelity in her face. Maria was goading her about you, Peter, trying to hurt her. Bella told her she lost Jasper to 'a man who didn't even put out', and that wasn't even the fucking icing on the cake. She told Maria her pussy lacked the skill to hold onto both Jasper's dick and his heart, and that a bitch like her wasn't capable of changing for anyone because she's too greedy. Then she called her a 'bloodsucking _cunt_'." Alice sighed, blowing out.

Women don't use _that_ word – at least, not women like Bella. Jasper and Peter just stared at each other, and you could see that each of Alice's—or _Bella's—_words had impacted them. Obviously, Bella wasn't off the mark, at all.

Jasper's eyes lit up with humor and he lost control of his faculties. He laughed short before he got control over himself. Peter didn't find it funny at all, but I swear I saw his lip twitch.

Jasper calmed down almost immediately, but his lips were tight - almost like he was trying to keep from smiling.

Not even Peter's self-destructive nature seemed capable of shutting down the joy that Jasper felt from Bella's verbal smackdown. Who knew? She might have just taken the words that Jasper would have said right out of his mouth.

She had to fight with something, and words were capable of killing.

But she might have just killed _herself_.

"Anything else?" Jasper asked.

"No. I can't see anything else. It's gone. She was still moving when it went away. She's still alive, I know she is. But Maria...hit her hard. Her face..." Alice didn't finish. She looked upset. "She's obviously been around _you_ long enough, Peter Fischer. She's got your mouth."

"I can get her a new face," Peter whispered as he stared at Jasper.

For some reason, I didn't think he meant the kind a plastic surgeon could create.

Jasper nodded. "Yes, you can. She's fighting, but she's fighting for her right to die. You gonna let her die?" Jasper asked, challenging him.

Peter looked at him for a moment and his face twisted. "No."

Jasper didn't say anything for a second. Our grip on Peter did not waver. "You know Bella just as well as any of us. You know what she's thinking." There was a fierceness in his eyes as he looked at Peter.

Peter sighed shakily. "She doesn't want to subject me to that again. Killing herself before Maria has the chance to kill her in front of me makes it better in her mind. But it doesn't." Peter said frantically, shaking his head. Jasper nodded.

We all understood. It was classic Bella being self-sacrificing as ever.

"Exactly." He let go of Peter's face to pull him up from the wall. I let go of him.

"Get us there _now._" Jasper told him. There was nothing but worry on his face.

That was when I realized that no one was flying the goddamn plane.

"Maybe fly the plane while you're at it? Uh..."

At first I thought I had just ultimately pissed Peter off to the point where he was going to go ahead and throw _me_ out of the plane. He looked at me with murder in his eyes.

"It's on auto, Seth," Jasper said.

But Peter had taken us off guard, and I think both Jasper and I were wondering if we needed to subdue him again.

Peter turned around and slammed his fist into the partition on the cockpit side, punching a hole completely through it. It was just painted and glossed particle board, and it shattered with the force, sending splinters of wood and fiberglass flying with it.

"What are you doing?!" Jasper asked. It had alarmed him, and he sounded stressed. Alice had jumped in her seat.

"Taking them out. They're in the way," Peter grounded out. He slammed his fist back into the wall, up by the ceiling.

In a move that could rival a viper striking its prey, Jasper spun Peter around and pushed him back into the partition, nearly sending him through it.

Alice cried out, and Peter looked like he was about to go for it and tear Jasper's head off his body.

"Stop for a minute and just tell us what the fuck it is we're doing! I'm fuckin' tired of it, Peter! Nothing else fucking matters other than what _you_ want, what _you_ need! Well, _fuck you_! I'll be damned if I let you kill us all because you've got a fucking death wish. And I'll be damned if I let you take Bella with you!" Jasper bellowed.

I unconsciously moved more to the side until I was right against the door. It seemed like Jasper had finally had enough, and Peter looked like he wanted to kill _everybody_.

Everything was just fucking crazy, and we were all setting ourselves up for failure and death.

Peter just stood there, and they both stared at each other like they wanted to rip each others head off. You couldn't tell what was going through his mind because his eyes were just so fucked up. His face twisted in a way, and you could tell he was conflicted, angry, and resentful.

"You think what you want about how I feel, but don't you act like you know what's going through my fucking mind. You don't know anything." Peter seethed quietly. His voice was all but gone and he sneered at Jasper.

There was so much goddamn hatred rolling out of that son of a bitch, it had to be impossible for Jasper to suck it all up. So he spread it around and let us all feel it.

Jasper was in Peter's face the next second. "Then tell me! Show me! Beat the shit out of me if you have to, but just fucking tell me! I fucked up! I can't take it back, but I don't want to either! Not anymore! I'm not here for _you_! I'm here for Bella! For my wife! Not _you_!"

Jasper couldn't act for shit. He looked down and off to the left before he turned his glare back on Peter.

Alice groaned from somewhere behind me. She had left her seat.

"Oh, quit fucking lying. You are too! We're here for both of you, Peter, but if you don't quit wondering about if she's dead or not, you're going to _fail. She is alive. _And she wants her future. She's looking for a miracle, and it's always been you. _Angel_," she said almost sarcastically.

Alice looked like she was about to beat the shit out of the both of them.

Jasper backed away, breathing hard. He looked up at Peter and just waited. If Peter was going to take his shot at him, it would have been the time to do it. Jasper didn't look like he was going to put up a fight.

But Peter's eyes were on Alice, and they were wide. Alice had said something important, although I had no idea what it was.

He looked back at Jasper. Nothing specific showed on his face. He was stoic.

Everything changed.

"We're gonna top out at fifty thousand. I'm gonna make a run overhead so we can see whatever we can see," Peter said quietly.

Jasper looked at him. "They'll still be able to hear us," he said harshly.

"Yeah, but they're not gonna think anything of it. It's just a plane going overhead, which is why I'll stall it out on the second pass. We'll be closer," Peter bit out.

I don't think there was a half-human or vampire who didn't blanch when he mentioned stalling out the plane.

And I also thought I needed to take a shit.

Stalling the plane. Free falling in a fuckton of a steel deathtrap. It was almost guaranteed that she wouldn't quite soar like the emblem on her tail.

"Explain," Jasper said, but it was more like an order.

Peter looked at him, not speaking for a moment. When he did, he was much calmer. "If I drop it to thirty-five thousand and stall it out, I can take it in silently. They won't hear a thing. But she won't explode if I don't restart the engines. Safeties will cut the fuel off. I'll have to kick them in before she crashes."

"You can't do that. You have to take out the APS, right? She won't start. And you'll lose hydraulics," Jasper said, running a hand through his hair. He was looking at the floor, thinking.

"She has _two_. It's a back up. I'll still have hydraulics and I'll still be able to control her flaps, but I'll lose GPS and radar. I won't be able to climb back up if I need to, unless I restart. But I'm not planning on climbing back up. It would be a dead giveaway," Peter said quietly, watching Jasper.

There was something in his eyes, something I couldn't place as anything more than him silently begging Jasper to understand.

Jasper's head shot up to look at him. "What speed will she stall?"

"Ninety-seven, ninety-eight knots, and then she'll drop like a brick with wings. I can glide her in, but she'll have a five-degree margin of error. I won't screw it up," he said firmly. "We can't go out the door because if the engines start, it'll suck us back into them. It'll suck _Seth_ back into them," he said, looking at Jasper meaningfully.

"What?" I asked. Somehow that suck didn't sound so good.

They ignored me.

Jasper stepped closer to him. "What's the weight?" he asked quietly.

"Forty-two thousand two hundred, give or take a wolf or vampire," Peter answered him.

Jasper thought for a moment as he looked at Peter. There was something passing between them, but I couldn't even begin to surmise what it was.

"Forty-six seconds," Jasper said.

"Forty-_one_. I'm gonna throttle her up. When she kicks back in, she'll crash about three hundred knots. It'll take us three seconds to get out and another four or five to hit the ground."

There was another pause as Jasper looked at Peter. Their eyes were locked. "What altitude?" Jasper asked.

"A thousand feet. It's only a theory that they'll kick back in. Nobody's ever fucking tried it, not that I know about. But the APS is a full back up. The secondary ties into everything vital. I just need _one_ to fire up." He paused and swallowed thickly. "You'll have five hundred feet. I'll take Alice and Seth with me." Peter glanced at me. "Seth will draft up at about two hundred and twenty, but it's a double chute. It'll kill his landing speed."

I had enough just as Jasper blinked. I completely missed something with that exchange, but Jasper had picked it up. Still, I had enough.

"Would you two speak fucking English, for Christ's sake? I'll even settle for Hick."

Jasper looked at me like I was interrupting something very important and I needed to shut the fuck up.

"He's gonna stall the plane at thirty-five thousand feet and glide it down. We'll be going about two hundred and twenty miles an hour when we bust through the fuckin' cockpit and hightail it out. The engines will kick in, the plane will blow up, and you'll float down waving your fuckin' pom poms while you watch us both save the fuckin' day. Got it?"

I think he wanted throw me out the window. He didn't wait for me to answer. He looked at Peter. "You only have one shot."

"That's all I'll need," Peter said confidently, his eyes burning, and then his demeanor changed almost instantly. "That's all _you'll_ need," he whispered, looking down and away.

Jasper seemed to study Peter for a moment, and then he scoffed under his breath and shook his head minutely.

"You've been standing there for the past two goddamn minutes wanting to ask me, but you just can't do it, can you?" he asked, aghast.

Peter's eyes shot up to Jasper's, and I almost thought his heart had broken all over again. "Yes, I _can_. I need you to get her. You're quicker. I need you to do this for me. You don't know how to fail."

"Neither do you!" Jasper bit out. He looked away, like he was sorry he had snapped.

Peter swallowed thickly. "I've never fucking asked you for anything, but I'm begging you now. If you gotta hurt her to get her, then do it, but just _get her back_. Get her back for me. I'll take care of Alice and Seth, I promise. _Please_."

Peter fell apart.

Men cry. It wasn't a bad thing. It just emphasized the love he had for Bella even more.

He was begging and he was ashamed - maybe because he knew Jasper was better than him. Faster even. And it had probably taken a lot to admit it. To _accept_ it. Peter was kick ass as far as I was concerned, but maybe one was just a little more dangerous than the other.

Maybe one was just a little more calculative and level headed than he appeared to be. And maybe Jasper shouldn't have presumed anything.

Maybe the two brothers complemented each other, and neither would win or lose in a fight against the other.

Jasper might have been part pretty boy, but the scars of thousands shaped him.

Peter had them, too. But where one lacked in age and experience, the other made up for it with patience and control - even when he didn't seem to have any. He was already proof of that.

Maybe it was because they were both too fucking stubborn to admit they loved each other too goddamn much. Maria had shaped them into being cold, hard killers with no heart, so therefore it was difficult for them to bare their souls. The past weighed heavily on them. They could never forget. Not even Jasper.

I was sure they weren't so open with everything, not even with their mates. But maybe with each other they could be, and that was what made their bond so strong. And they _both_ knew that.

And the truth was it didn't matter. Peter was crazy, but he wasn't crazy enough to not know what was in Bella's best interests.

Jasper sighed and looked down, ashamed himself. He grabbed his forehead, along with some hair, and groaned out in agony, squeezing his eyes shut. His face twisted in a grimace.

"You didn't even have to ask..._fuck_," he said thickly.

I knew I was dead on about everything. I might have been a kid, but I was a pretty smart one.

Somewhere behind me Alice was sobbing because the shit was kind of heartbreaking.

No one said anything for a moment. Emotions were running high, swallowing the calm.

Jasper looked back up at Peter as he cleared the thickness out of his throat. "I need to know. I need to know what _you_ plan to do."

Peter looked at him and nodded a little, swallowing back his own. "Defend to offend. I'll take care of Alice. I promise."

Jasper looked at him, a question in his eyes. I had the feeling he understood what Peter meant more than anyone.

"If Maria runs, you'll let her go?"

Peter nodded. "Yes."

But in _his_ eyes you could see that he wanted her. He wanted her _dead_. And it was in Jasper's eyes, too.

I suppose a choice had to be made. What was more important; getting Bella back alive and letting Maria go if she ran, or risking it all to go after the _cunt_?

It was all so clear. He had already risked Bella to fate probably one too many times over the years. He was not going to do it anymore.

Jasper was right. Peter didn't want to die, but he wasn't afraid to either.

Jasper looked at Peter for a moment. "You won't have to take care of Alice. Just watch her back. She can hold her own, especially if her gift works for her." He paused. "I've taught her almost everything I know."

Alice piped up from behind me. "_Almost_ everything. He still taught you more. Bro's before ho's," she said, rolling her eyes as she let out a sob.

It was quiet as the two brothers stared at each other, unable to talk. More than likely, _that_ had been the truth at one time. The only difference now was they'd both actually die for the other's mate just to protect the other's heart.

Peter was the first to break eye contact, but he did it with reluctance. He looked away, moving away from the wall, and turned around. He grabbed a piece of the wall from where he had hit it and tore it back, letting it fall at his feet. He didn't punch it again, but he hit it up at the top to break it away.

Jasper looked at him for another moment before he slid over to the other side and started knocking it out.

I was a little surprised when I felt a cool hand slip into mine. There was no way to describe the emotion in her glossy, butterscotch eyes other than bittersweet.

"Will you help me with something when this is all over?" she whispered.

I looked at her and I just _knew_ what she was going to ask.

"There's not a door and a lock that could hold them. I could probably sit on Peter, wave Bella in front of his face, but your husband will fuck us all up."

Alice sighed. If Peter and Jasper were listening, they gave no indication.

Between the noise of them tearing out the partitions and the noise of the engines, I had forgotten that there was still no one flying the fucking plane. She was leveled out fifty thousand feet above the earth.

It wasn't so scary anymore, now that I knew what was coming.

"They're going to say it, one way or the other." Alice glared at the both of them.

Alice was a tough, little shit, but she was all woman. Expression without words was never fucking enough. They always had to hear 'I love you'. I knew this, and I still hadn't gotten laid yet.

They didn't need to say it.

Alice and I were finishing up throwing the larger pieces of the partitions down into a cargo hold Peter had showed us back by the galley. The shit was evidently going to fly when Peter crashed the plane, so the less debris, the better.

Jasper and Peter were up in the seats, going over the details of Peter's elaborate plan. Time was dwindling down. There were about ten minutes left of flight time to Boquillas.

"Well, fuck. The GPS is a tie in, right? I mean, she'll fly herself there. There's no way to keep it?" Jasper asked.

"The coordinates for the canyon are plugged in. Even if I take it out she'll still fly us there. The GPS could tell us when we're overhead, but without line of sight I won't know where to put it. If I can't see where I'm going, I could crash it too short…or in Mexico," Peter answered numbly.

There was a pause. "How long have you had this planned?" Jasper asked quietly.

Alice and I were walking up behind them. There were still bits and pieces of fiberglass all over the floor. I could feel shards in the palms of my hands from lugging the pieces back to the hold.

"About a minute after Seth gave me the idea to use HOP," he rasped out.

Jasper looked at him a little surprised.

"What's going on?" I asked. Alice had walked up behind Jasper's seat and pushed his hair back away from his eyes. I stood behind Peter, hunched over and looking down into the cockpit.

"We have a problem," Jasper answered quietly. Peter and Jasper were both sitting tensely in their seats, glaring out the window.

"What?"

Jasper looked up at me. He pointed out the window and then down at the radar. "That. And that."

Peter flipped a switch and the inside of the plane went dark; all for the exception of the lights coming from the monitors and everything else in the cockpit, plus a dim overhead towards the back of the plane.

I looked out the windows and wished I never had.

Miles and miles away, and just a hair down below us, was a wall of shit swallowing up the clear, star-studded sky. It was a large super cell, with rolling spirals of large cumulonimbus clouds stretching from horizon to horizon. Heat lightning flashed inside the billows, turning the black and blue clouds a burnt amber. Storm lightning struck from the ground up and into the black billows that were closer to the earth.

The storm went off the radar.

"Oh, shit."

"_ROS-AC, HOP913. Switch to 5-1 and contact STOCK-AC. Course adjust for heading 2-1-0. You've got a storm…"_

Peter's fist smashed into the radio above him. It was like a reflex jerk; a spasm, clean and quick; and he didn't even look up to do it. One brief outburst and it was over, with sparks raining down on his head.

Alice and I jumped because we were pussies. Jasper just threw him a cool look.

"What are you going to do?" Jasper asked.

Peter stared out the windshield. His expression, reflecting back in the glass, was the same as it was at the house. His eyes were empty.

Jasper looked at him when he didn't answer. "Peter?"

He looked at Jasper, and then he looked at Alice.

"Have you seen anything else?" he asked her.

"No," she answered resignedly.

He looked down at the GPS.

"I'm gonna try to save the GPS. If I can save it, it'll at least tell us when we're overhead. Take the autopilot off and stay on one-eighty. Keep her at fifty. Seth, come with me," he said quietly.

Peter got out of his seat and stepped over the console in the middle. Jasper flipped a switch and he was flying the plane.

"Where are we going?" I asked when he brushed by me.

"Down into her guts. I need your help."

I followed him. He moved fluidly, like a ghost, back to the galley. It was dark, and although I had no problem seeing, it just made everything else that much more ominous, that much more frightening.

He was turning a handle on a trap in the floor when I turned into the galley. There wasn't that much room to maneuver.

"Pop that drawer open on your left. Grab the flashlight. There's a cam lock in there too. It's got a red handle and the end looks like a star. Grab it," he said quietly. He lifted the door off and laid it against the wall next to the trap.

I found the drawer and pulled the handle to open it. I found the flashlight easily enough, but the drawer was filled with tools I had no names for. Aircraft shit. There were two red handles; one shaped like a rectangle and the other a star. I shut the drawer and turned around.

His hands were on the sides of the trap. He was squatting, and we were obviously going in, but he was just staring down into the hole, procrastinating. It was like he didn't want to go in there.

I couldn't blame him much. It was black down below and we were right by the engines. It was loud already, and it would be even louder down below.

"Peter? You okay?"

His eyes snapped up to mine. He didn't answer, but he gripped the sides and lowered himself down in a flash.

I could do without all the craziness, but maybe it meant something to him.

It was no bigger than a crawlspace, and Peter wasn't a small guy. He was on his knees, bent over, and he reached through the trap so I could hand him the light and the tool.

I couldn't exactly get myself through in one motion. The opening into the space was small. I had to wiggle one shoulder in, and then the other. The crawlspace itself was about three feet high and about five feet wide.

By the time I got myself seated and wiggled around to crawl, Peter was taking off the panel to a box on the wall, which was four feet away from me and in the tail of the aircraft. He was on his knees and bent over awkwardly. There was no way to sit up straight.

The floor and walls of the space weren't solid. It was insulated with some kind of black rubber material, and there were panels everywhere. Electrical conduits ran along the ceiling.

The noise from the engines roared through the belly, and the crawlspace went from the tail end to the nose of the plane. The partition pieces we had thrown down were six feet away.

He handed me the light and quickly took off the shell to a panel that was right beside another one. One was labeled EZAPS and the other was labeled MAPS. Each panel housed an intricate pattern of microchips, wires, and little, flashing green and white lights.

He stared between the two, thinking only for just a moment. Everything was labeled inside the EZAPS panel, whereas nothing was labeled inside the MAPS panel except ports with amps. He took the chip for the GPS out of the EZ panel and plugged it into an open port on the MAPS panel.

"Will this work?!" I yelled.

"I don't know!" he answered.

There were two wires coming out of the port he had taken the microchip from. He pulled on each and they gave way. He was pulling more wire out to connect to the other box. The tool he used with precision, unlocking cams that would hold the wires.

"Smash that thing!" he yelled.

"What?!"

"Smash the APS! Hit the RAM as hard as you can!" He was connecting the first wire.

He wanted _me_ to break the plane. There was something really wrong with that. I didn't _want_ to break the plane. At that point, I loved the plane. It was safe. Breaking it meant there was only one way out. I could have still jumped out the door with the chute.

I was going to need surgery to extend my balls.

Things were getting worse already, though. We were either inside the storm or passing over it. The plane started to toss us around a little. Light turbulence.

The RAM was easy to identify. It was just a computer, and it was labeled. It was a metal box inside the panel where everything connected. I had to lean towards it just so I could pull back my fist.

I broke the plane. The metal barrier on the RAM had been thin, and my fist slammed through it with no problem at all. Sparks flew and electricity crackled, raising the hair on my arms. I hit it a second time just to be sure.

Peter had been connecting the second wire as I was smashing the box. The first hit didn't faze him, but the second one did. The wire was covered in plastic and he just let it go.

It hit a lead on the panel and sparks flew. Peter slammed back against the wall of the crawlspace. He slammed _hard_.

I didn't think vampires could be electrocuted, but that's what I thought had happened.

His hand was on his chest, over his heart. His eyes were wide. His face looked like it would be perpetually stuck in a look of awe.

Awe…and amazing astonishment. And inside those black globes of death there was _light_.

"Peter?! What the fuck?! Are you alright?!" I was under the assumption he had taken a shock. He didn't answer me. He just clutched at his chest. His hand slid down and touched the floor of the plane.

I shook him, but he was solid. I couldn't even budge him.

There was nothing. Nothing fazed him. It was almost like he was catatonic, but he wasn't.

He just alternated between feeling his chest and feeling the belly of the plane as he stared straight ahead.

Panic set in. I did the only thing I could think of.

"Jasper! Jasper, get down here!"

It took him two seconds. He threw himself into the crawlspace and landed with a crash before scurrying over.

"What's the matter?! What happened?!" There was panic in his eyes, but they seemed to glow.

"I think I electrocuted him!" Jasper crawled over my legs. He was no lightweight by any means.

He held Peter's head with his hands and turned him so he'd look at Jasper.

"Peter! What is it?!"

There was almost an instant recognition, an instant snap back to reality. His eyes seemed to float inside his head. They were still black globes of death, but now they kind of looked like eight balls because there was a pin prick of light in them.

We were pretzeled within the crawlspace. Jasper was lying partially on my legs and partially on Peter.

And unless Alice knew how to fly the plane, nobody was.

He looked at Jasper in a confused but wondrous way. "I can feel her," he said quietly.

"What?" Jasper asked him.

"I can feel her. I can _feel_ her! She was right _below_ me!" he seethed, but there was an awful amount of happiness there too.

Peter smiled. It was almost boyish - like someone had given him back his scythe, something he cradled close to his chest when he went to bed at night.

But she wasn't back yet.

Jasper looked at him a little like he was crazy, but mostly like he was conflicted. "I felt something, too. We had to just pass her overhead. Alice saw the river through the clouds, to the east."

Panic set into Peter's face. He scurried himself more upright and looked between Jasper and the panel.

"The GPS is fried," Jasper said as Peter's eyes came to rest on the panel. The plane jerked even more.

Peter's head snapped over towards Jasper. His eyes filled with a fury and urgency like never before as the plane bucked.

"We don't need it!"

Alice was flying the plane.

That was about two shades of fucked up, figuring she couldn't even see over the top of the instrument panel.

"If one of you would care to take over and take us back to Texas, I would extremely appreciate it," she said sarcastically with clenched teeth. Peter, however, was already climbing back into the seat by the time she had finished.

"It would be easier if you just learned how to fly," Jasper told her softly as she removed herself from the seat.

"No."

The plane was still dark, of course, but it was even darker than before. There were no dimmed overhead lights, and half the lights inside the cockpit were out. All the monitors were black, and there was a high frequency alarm blaring as well. Peter hit a few buttons and it went away.

The digital screens for the altimeter, the fuel gauge—which still read 'full'—the air speed indicator, and the artificial horizon were all still working, as well as the oxygen compression controls on the top board. We were still over the storm, and lighting flashed below through the clouds. We hadn't even hit the edge of it and we were already experiencing turbulence.

"Alice, hook the chute up to Seth," Peter said calmly.

His hand jerked forward on the left side of the control wheel, dipping the stick and her nose. He dropped the nose almost forty degrees and we began to descend as we turned sharply to the left. To the east.

The speed indicator read 512 knots, but it was dropping at an enormous rate. I had to brace myself against the roof. It felt like someone had just sliced my belly open with a knife and all my intestines had fallen to the floor.

Alice grabbed the backpack out of the seat first, sliding into the straps and hoisting it up on her back. She grabbed my chute next.

"You're gonna take us in the middle of that. We might lose it before we ever even reach the canyon," Jasper said, looking at Peter, his words stressed.

I was experiencing a mild panic attack. Alice was clipping the chute to the buckles on my shoulders and down my back. I was trying not to shiver, but my molecules felt like they were literally exploding.

_Danger._

My senses were telling me that this was wrong, that this was foolish and death was on its way.

_Danger._

"It's a risk but we don't have a choice. Seth, get down on the floor. Glue yourself to the back of the seat. Remember what I said. When you get on the ground, you stay on my ass. Alice, stay with me," Peter ordered. He was diabolically calm.

We had straightened out a little bit, but we were closer to the storm and descending fast.

He didn't have to tell _me_ twice. I got down on my knees. It was kind of hard to kiss my ass goodbye. While the chute wasn't heavy, it was definitely awkward.

And little Alice was no fool. Even _she_ didn't want to be standing when we hurtled down to the ground. Even _she_ didn't want to see death coming quick. She sat down right next to me and held on to Jasper's seat. To say she seemed a little worried was putting it mildly.

We were both angled in such a way that we could look through the middle console by the throttle. The altimeter read forty-six thousand, and we were still banking left.

"The GPS is out. How are we going to know?" she asked.

"Peter can feel Bella again. He knows right where she's at. Seth, you need to breathe. You're shaking," Jasper said a little firmly, but nobody had missed his initial tone or the way he looked at Peter. Not even Peter had missed it. It was as if he didn't believe him.

I wasn't quite sure myself, but I felt Jasper's calming influence trying to soothe the sheer mortification I thought I was hiding pretty well.

"Tell that to my cells, bloodsucker. Peter, look, it's not that I don't believe you, but…um…are you sure it's _Bella_ you're feeling? I mean, are you sure you just didn't get a buzz from the panel?"

"He can't be electrocuted, Seth," Jasper answered quietly.

The entire frame of the plane shook with extreme agitation. A lightning bolt sizzled up on Peter's side within yards. Someone had picked up my intestines and shoved them all the way up my throat. Bile rose up and I had to swallow it back.

Peter looked over his shoulder at me, and then at Jasper, before he turned back to the front.

"You two don't want to believe me, that's fine. You can go fuck yourselves. But I can feel her. I can't explain it right, but it's her _heart_ and her _soul_ calling mine home. She's pulling me there. You wanna worry about something, worry about me _not_ putting the goddamn plane on Bella's head because she's right where I wanna be," he grounded out.

"It's not that I don't believe you. I felt something, but it was _you_. It was as if you had found the key to perpetual happiness. There's no way to put into words the amount of desire and contentment that raced through you. I have never experienced something so pure. I've never felt something like that before. It was like taking every precious moment I've ever had with Alice and tying it all together within one moment," Jasper told him quietly.

The altimeter said 41,000. I was listening, but I was watching the sky. We were in the clouds. We were in the storm. Lightning flashed through the billows at an alarming rate.

"But you're not sure," Peter stated quietly.

"I still have to question it. And by that I mean I have to question _why now_? If you tell me it's her and not something you're manifesting, then I'll believe you," Jasper said. His head was against the headrest and he was watching Peter.

He was feeling him too.

"I'm not making it up. It's _her_. I could point to a star in a mass of billions and within a second show you where she's at. What you feel is what I've felt ever since I first laid eyes on her. To have it be gone, to take it away..." Peter choked thickly. He couldn't finish.

"It was killing you. I think I'd want to die too."

I had to wonder if Jasper had just wanted him to say the words and had believed him all along.

Peter's head turned towards Jasper, but he didn't look at him. He just nodded once.

The two them were talking quite cordially to each other. It was a vast difference from the tension that had seemed to rule over the two.

All of a sudden we were out of the storm and things calmed down. The cloud cover dissipated until there were just lonely billows floating in the air. I could see the earth below. Desert and mountains and desolation.

It was short-lived.

We were still descending rapidly, and we turned into a wall cloud so black and dense you could have sworn it was solid if the heat lightning hadn't lit it up, revealing amber vapor.

Even Alice couldn't help but gasp because that fucker was pure ugliness. We were heading right towards the middle of it.

I was watching the artificial horizon and the heading indicator. My ears were popping almost to the point where it was painful, and although I should have been scared, frightened out of my fucking mind, I _wasn't_.

I felt calm, almost serene in what was sure to have been a moment of extreme pandemonium. Even Jasper must have known there was no way I was going to get through this without his influence, and I kind of wanted to hit him and kiss him all at the same time.

The plane kept turning. We were still descending, and no one uttered another word.

Heading 1-4-0. 35,000 feet.

We were in the storm again. The difference between one second to the next was almost extraordinary, and there was simply no time to kiss anyone's ass goodbye.

Peter pulled the throttle up and we leveled out at thirty-two thousand feet. The turbulence was back and it was even worse than before. Heat lightning flashed right in front of the windows. The sky was literally on fire.

As frightening as it was to see lightning nearly brush within just inches of the plane, it was also kind of awe-inspiring. The currents seemed to brush my skin, even from within the airplane. We were dropping speed.

"Jesus Christ."

"Seth, whatever you do, don't phase. Go to your happy place," Jasper said, but the velvet in his voice was choppy. For some reason, I didn't think it was just because of the turbulence. The plane bucked, but she cut through the air trying to push her back, trying to push her down.

It was strange but for some reason, once he said that, I instantly thought about the girl. The girl at the top of the cliff.

"My happy place only exists in my dreams! She's about five foot four and she's got a nice set of tits! Plus, I think she's a bloodsucker! She looked at me like she loved me, but maybe she wanted to eat me!"

Jasper laughed like I had just told him the best joke in the world. "Seth, if that's your happy place, man, just go with it."

Peter pulled the throttle back until the speed indicator fell to 130 knots. Jasper, who seemed a little twitchy, interchangeably looked out the window, at the gauges, _and_ at Peter.

Jasper lifted himself up with his hands and folded his legs and boot-clad feet under himself in the seat. He was squatting in his chair. His back was bent over to the right side, his head against the window.

He was looking at the ground.

It was quiet for a moment, except for the ever-raging storm outside. The engines seemed to want to work against the deceleration.

"Jasper," Peter said.

Peter wasn't even looking at the sky. His head was down and his eyes were on the display in front of him, but I had to wonder if he was seeing it at all. His hand was above the throttle, his fingertips stroking the metal panel. They were shaking.

Jasper's head snapped over to him. "Don't. Just don't. Feeling it is just as bad as _you_ fucking saying it, so just don't," Jasper told him harshly and thickly.

Somehow, I had missed something. Or not.

"I'm sorry," Peter told him numbly.

"Goddammit," Jasper sobbed thickly. He said no more.

Jasper moved for just a second so he could kiss his wife, who was intent on kissing him back.

She lifted herself up and he met her halfway. His eyes were black, but they were glossed over with venom. He then rested his head against the window and looked below.

Alice lifted herself up even more and kissed Peter's cheek softly. She was huddling herself back down when she froze.

"What the fuck is that?" Alice asked shakily. She brought herself slowly down right next to me. I hadn't even noticed, but at some point she had put her hand in mine. She was gripping it so hard the joints in my fingers ached.

New panic set in, and the calm inside me fell away.

A massive black cloud on Jasper's side was swallowing the sky.

And you really couldn't even call it a cloud because it was more like a black hole. The middle of it seemed to collapse within itself, but its edges were growing. It was eating the clouds that were circling around it.

"What is it?!" I asked, more than stressed.

"It's a fucking tornado. Of all the rotten…fucking..." Peter said quietly, not finishing his sentence. And there was an inflection in his tone I could not place – reverence…awe…it didn't matter.

It had _most_ of our attention - even his, although the hand that was pressed flat against the panel pulled the throttle up even more. The noise from the engines died down until it was just a dull keen. He pulled it back even more until the speed indicator read ninety-five.

I didn't know that the vortex was sucking in the clouds from beneath us, thinning them into just blades and giving way to a clear view of the ground, if only just for a second.

It was all Jasper needed.

But Peter didn't need to see _shit_. He could have been stripped of sight altogether and he still would have hit the mark.

I was watching the vortex. Not even the lightning around it could turn all the black clouds a burnt shade of amber. Some of them were thick enough to look completely solid. From the sky, she looked like a formidable and unforgiving beast. From the sky, she was monstrous.

Jasper was _not_ looking at the tornado. He was looking straight down, as down as he could see. "I see light. I see firelight. It's a goddamn fire. It's a fire! Peter! Drop it!"

But he already was. The engines didn't sputter out. The dull keen just faded away like someone had just switched them off. Instead of forward, he cranked the throttle back all the way.

Three alarms went off; high frequency bursts which pulsed in my ears, but Peter hit a few switches and pushed the steering column in.

"She's going to annulate and disk. Hold on," he gritted out.

By dropping down another three thousand feet, Peter had cut down our dive time. Not even a vampire wants to be in a full blown eighty-degree angle dive six miles above the earth, although speed didn't factor into giving them a coronary. Unlike _me_.

I did not believe there would ever be a more horrifying moment I'd ever experience that could compare to him putting that plane into a dive.

But he had shaved a few seconds off, and it was the longest thirty-two seconds of my entire life.

I was sure I wouldn't survive. But _my_ life, and no one else's, flashed before my eyes.

I saw _everything_. It was impossible to close my eyes, and I saw something so beautiful that I wouldn't even have wanted to.

There's nothing quite like having your stomach sucked up into your nasal cavity. I'd never ride a roller coaster or want to jump from the cliffs at First Beach ever again. I would never want to do anything that would ever be a reminder of diving in that plane. I was sure of it.

Lightning flashed in front of us and lit up the cockpit as we hurtled recklessly to the ground. Jasper now had one foot braced on the panel of the cockpit, and so did Peter.

He had to control her rudder, which was a pedal on the floor. He had to try to control the way she annulated, circling as she soared down. The earth was there, in the window, but she was spinning.

Debris from the ruined partitions hit me in the back of the head and landed against the cockpit windows like crystal raining on a glass floor. Shit was shifting all over the place – out of cupboards and storage areas - but I paid no attention. I was _dying_.

Twenty-six seconds.

New alarms went off in the cabin, but these ones stayed on. Alice was plastered to my side and I could not move.

"Oh, my God," she said, somewhat subdued amidst the chaos.

The ground was coming closer and closer with every second. Jasper's arms went up so he could properly brace himself - one arm on the panel, the other on the chair. He was ready to break the cabin apart. His profile from the back was fierce and focused.

_They_ could still move, but I couldn't. I couldn't even lift my head, so it stayed glued to the side of Peter's seat. _They_ could see things I couldn't. My eyes were good, but still not as extraordinary as theirs.

Twenty-one seconds.

Through the windows, when the earth still looked big and far away, you could see the mass that we had seen in the air on the ground, and from the ground she didn't seem quite as monstrous or quite as unforgiving. But it was just a glimpse I caught of the tornado before she was gone, and then all I could see was the earth. The mesas and mountains looked flat, and a dark line wove a pattern in between them.

It was dark. There was just a speck of light; a light that Jasper could tell was a fire through the billows that we cut through below us. The line above it was The Rio Grande.

The ground was coming quick and someone was screaming. I'd find out later that it was me.

For a moment, the whole cabin lit up like it hadn't before and I was sure lightning had struck the plane as she spun towards the ground. The plane hugged the air, spinning her into a vortex of her own.

Fourteen seconds.

Peter's hands were gripping the handles of the control wheel so fiercely that it was a wonder it didn't break. His thumbs were on the buttons that controlled her flaps.

She stopped spinning, but it did nothing to relieve the pandemonium of the moment, and Alice's voice only confused me.

"She's going to jump! She's going to jump! Jasper!"

Twelve seconds.

And the world exploded. Somewhere on the left panel, next to Peter, a primer was being struck as a surge of pure energy rushed through my senses. It was energy so strong and so vital that it should have had light with it.

I caught a glimpse of the altimeter, one thousand thirty-three feet. Peter was fully squatted on the cockpit, both legs holding him up, and that surge of energy was the combination of his and Jasper's fists punching and breaking through the cabin of the ceiling. They worked together, instantly shredding it like it was made of paper.

The sound of metal giving way was deafening and I could hear no more. They almost shredded the entire roof off, and the force of the wind was creating an air funnel inside the plane. It was trying suck me further into the plane, up instead of down.

But before part of the panel fell in the way of the glass, I could have sworn I saw two fires and a dark abyss above them. It was a canyon, and there were shadows everywhere.

Jasper was gone, and I didn't even see him jump.

The hand that was gripping mine—the small, cool body that had been pressed against my side—was gone, and for just a moment I thought they had forgotten about me.

Seven hundred feet.

The altimeter was the last thing I looked at. Someone grabbed the harness's buckle, which went across my chest, and yanked me out from behind the seat. Another second and I would have let go, letting the wind suck me into the back of the plane. I was just too out of it to realize it was Peter.

I'd find out later that Alice hadn't jumped on her own. She had been seeing the unthinkable, stuck in a vision, and Peter had to throw her out.

Nevertheless, for one moment I felt alone and I was screaming like a girl.

But it wasn't just my own screaming I heard. I heard something else screaming, and at first I had thought it was Peter, but it was the mechanical keening of an engine that had sparked to life because it had been primed. The plane was throttling forward, and she was going to go out like she was intended to.

Peter had pushed the throttle forward, turning his sophisticated and innovative jet into a missile.

She'd leave her mark.

A shard of metal ripped my calf open as Peter ripped me away from the death grip I had on the seat, and although I felt the cut, the pain was dull. I was staring into the eyes of the ghost, the eyes of the _Angel_, who was not a foot away from my face. And I was never more happy to see him.

He pushed himself—and me—off and out of the plane and into the air where it was cool.

I hadn't realized I'd been so hot, and whether he knew it or not, his legs were just as strong and just as fast as Jasper's. At least _I_ thought so.

In another instant, those black globes of fury, death, panic, and light were gone. He had pulled the cord on the chute and had kicked me in the chest as he let me go, sending me flying away from him.

Crashing head-on into a bloodsucker in a truck had nothing on this experience. I would have nightmares for years to come.

But it was still worth it.

Thunder filled my ears and cool air surrounded me. I felt the jerk. One chute opened first, yanking me and my retracted balls and lifting us higher into the air. The second chute wasn't far behind.

I was a little more focused now, and I watched the canopy explode above me. It felt like I had jerked to a complete stop.

I wanted to puke but it was my job to cheer. For a moment my eyes closed, but I opened them and the earth was closer than ever before.

Two hundred feet.

The chutes had cut my speed by more than seventy-five percent, but I was still falling fast. I didn't know how fast, but I also didn't care. I was too busy witnessing almost instantaneous miracles below me and watching shit blow up.

I was a good one hundred yards above and away from the ultimate weapon to be used against a small army of unsuspecting vampires, and she would go out _gloriously_.

He had aimed her right where she needed to be; at the fire that was furthest away, where the horde of vampires had stood. The shapes that moved around the fire weren't looking above. They were looking at something else. They were watching the very same tornado that we had really only taken a good glance at.

I didn't care about them or it anymore. I was too busy watching Jasper crash into the ground forty feet to the side of the second and closest fire.

There was no pause. He was up the next moment and his legs were hard steel, only bending towards what he willed them to bend towards. It was awe-inspiring to watch something move faster than lightning. He was _that_ quick.

He was moving towards the fire, but also away from it. He was moving towards the edge.

And then I saw her.

She was running for the ledge, and she was running like she had never run before. But Bella and Jasper weren't the only things moving down on the earth.

I knew instantly that it was her.

The little black-haired girl.

The cunt.

_Maria_.

And she had noticed Bella only a second after it was too late.

And although it had only been just hours before, I would never look at Bella the same way again. I'd look at her like she was the luckiest person in the world. Because she _was_.

Peter was below and in front of me, about fifty feet away. His eyes were trained on the very thing that had all of our attention, and Alice was watching it all as she fell into the canyon even further below him. We were all going into the canyon, falling into the darkness.

It would save my life, and I had to believe that Peter had known that, although he would never want to talk about it ever again.

I would need the extra two hundred feet _and_ the river. Two chutes would have meant nothing at all had I landed on that ridge, and I just knew he had known that. Of course, the wind was the determining factor, and even though he had kicked me away from him, the wind was sending me back towards him.

I was spiraling down, my head constantly turning to watch it all unfold.

Time stood still for one fraction of a second. It was on our side, but it still ticked forward. But Jasper defied the laws of time and gravity. Bella, however, was nearly out of both.

She didn't even pause. Her right foot found the edge and she _leaped_. For one moment, she even seemed to float.

If she hadn't have jumped, she would have been killed by the pyroclastic cloud of igniting fuel and fire as the front of the plane disintegrated once it made impact. The night fell away, and suddenly it was day.

It didn't get them all. Some of them had heard her roar as she fired down to earth, and they were jumping _off_ the cliff. Some of those bloodsuckers had faster reflexes, but they lacked experience.

I was watching Bella. And I was watching lightning streak across the earth, in boots no less.

He was right there, to her left and behind her. Gravity was on Jasper's side, but not Bella's.

As she started to fall, the small shape of the black-haired bloodsucker, who was just a hand's length behind Bella, reached for her.

For Jasper, it was just a simple push off the ground and leap towards his prey. And at that moment, _Bella_ was his prey. Of that I was sure. Their animal instincts were a powerful thing, and Jasper was giving all that he had.

Because there was no way in hell he was going to kill his brother.

That's what Peter had meant when he'd told Jasper to get her, even if it meant he had to hurt her in the process.

He had thought of _everything_. There had been control in him all along. There had been fight, love, and fear, and it made him more human than anyone I knew. But maybe it wasn't control, Maybe it was hope, or faith in fate.

There was no way to accurately describe the beauty - the _hysteria_ - of that awe-inspiring moment. Peter himself was focused on it. His arms were down at his sides when he fell into the abyss, but his head was trained up, watching it unfold because _his_ life, and Bella's life depended on it.

But that wasn't the beautiful part. The beautiful part was watching her body turn towards him, as if Peter's body was pulling _hers_. If she had opened her eyes, she would have seen him. But she was too afraid.

Her face was drawn in grief, accepting death. She had gone through _so_ much.

Her lips were parted. Her hair was swept back in the wind. She looked _older_, and her face was messed up.

I wish she had opened her eyes. She would have seen him. I was sure of it.

And it was as if Jasper wasn't meant to _catch_ her, but collide with her. Not once did he have to reach. He threw his leg out at just the right moment and caught that cunt's chin with his boot, right before his arms ensnared and he crashed into Bella. He kicked Maria hard, right below the chin, and that bitch went sailing off into the abyss like she was a tin can spinning end over end.

It was fucking _beautiful_.

I wasn't sure if it was thunder or the force of the impact his foot made upon contact, but for a moment there was nothing but light. The canyon was already lit up, but this was the kind of light you could only feel from pure exhilaration.

From victory.

Jasper caught Bella and he didn't let go. There was no question that he had run into her hard enough to knock the wind out of her, maybe even hard enough to break her neck had he not cradled it with his hand.

They were sailing into the other side of the canyon wall. He twisted her, taking the impact himself, and slid down the rock wall, which was crumbling beneath his back.

They disappeared when they fell onto an outcropping fifty or sixty feet from the bottom of the canyon.

Peter exploded. His body was tense. He had been waiting for that moment, which had felt like a lifetime to him. It was like watching Manning throw a play to his receiver down in the end zone and living that moment with thought and clarity.

Should I have aimed for her heart? Did we jump too late? Is she going to live, or are we going to die?

He couldn't have timed it more perfectly. And he knew that once Jasper had her, he'd never let her go until it was time for him to put her in his arms.

I could have cried.

The tension inside of me unraveled instantly as I watched Peter come alive. He flailed over towards the canyon wall. Jasper had saved the girl, and Peter gave him the glory without a second's thought.

The real fight to keep what was once again his was now about to begin.

I was floating into the canyon, but the canyon walls weren't carved straight. Sand and stone had formed sandbars three quarters of the way down on the American side. Alice landed on one, and she gouged a path as she slid down until she could find her footing. I swore she grew four more legs as she leaped to the other side, hanging on sideways as she waited for Peter; or as she waited for death to just _try_ to come find her.

There were shapes moving further down. They were on the walls. They were _hanging_ on the walls.

Alice was the spider, gifted not just with sight but with elegant grace and agility—and probably contortionism.

Peter was half feline, half Juggernaut, and he flailed through the air in pure exhilaration, the need to defend with unstoppable brute force written all over his face. He had everything to live for but still plenty to lose.

He hit the canyon wall; the Mexico side; and gouged a path before ripping through the rock with his hands to get his footing so he could lift off with his feet towards the American side.

Alice growled so loudly I could hear it, but Peter was silent. He was the stealthy hunter.

My last glimpse of him for a moment was when I watched him effortlessly move to the other side, further up the canyon wall, and further away. But I was sure he knew where I was.

He was going to defend by being offensive. I now understood what he and Jasper had meant, and Alice was with him all the way. Their objective was fifty yards away and through a bend in the canyon.

I was going to fall in the water twenty yards from where Peter had landed, in a deep part of the river just below a small chain of rapids.

I had enough time to take a breath and phase before I went in.

The riverbed broke my fall. I broke a toe.

It had never felt so good to be in my skin.


	24. Chapter 23 The Deepest Cut

Chapter 23: The Deepest Cut.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***S*E*T*H***

There were eight bloodsuckers on the ground who had escaped death by way of Peter's weapon of mass destruction. One of them of course, was Maria. Five others had managed to jump into the canyon, and the other two had been on the ridge, watching for Peter.

Jasper's arrival had forced Maria into hiding where she could lick her wounded pride, and the dent he put in her jaw.

But she was also waiting because she just didn't know how to give up, and she couldn't ignore the opportunity to possibly take out the bane of her existence. Both of them.

It's a pity we can all have what we desire the most. Most of us have to earn it.

Some of us _had_. Crashing the plane was just the beginning. The easy part was over.

But there was also the one that some of us assumed had run away. A slimy and sneaky little bastard only one of us had seen because he had been on the other side of the canyon, out of harm's way.

He was a family-oriented man, according to Bella. And he could do nothing without Maria.

Once upon a time he was just as much as a catalyst in Peter's life as Maria had been. Bella knew that, but it was only one the reasons why she let him go. All she had to do was ask one more time, and he wouldn't have left her, ever again.

She was still on a quest for knowledge.

All of it.

She was going to give him plenty of her own, in time.

*******Prelude End*******

It took me a minute to get my bearings, underneath the water. The current was pulling me downstream, and the fall to earth from thirty two thousand feet left me disoriented, but my senses were still screaming danger.

And it was coming. Quick.

When I broke the surface, I jumped out and onto a narrow part of the bank on the river, on the American side of the canyon. The slice in my calf stung only somewhat. Blood oozed and dripped. The shard had only cut through skin and fat. Not muscle. And the toe, my pinky toe, it hurt like a bitch. I took a second or two to shake off the water that had soaked into my coat.

It was easy enough to ignore the pain, but not easy enough to ignore the two bloodsuckers coming towards me from further up in the canyon.

I would have liked to have had a moment to kiss the earth because it never felt so good to be on it again…and alive. There just wasn't enough time to. And the truth was, I was experiencing a mild case of shock.

The passage at the bottom of the canyon was wide, but it narrowed further up around a bend in the canyon. Sand and stone made up the bank, along with dead wood that had floated down stream. Upstream the river probably swallowed all the ground, and flowed from wall to wall.

Scraps of steel that were burning so hot they were lit with fire were still falling over the edge, landing on jagged outcroppings. The canyon was dimly lit, almost as if it were by candlelight. But there wasn't no romancing going on there.

Peter had not moved from where I had seen him before I finally hit the water. He was in a divot of the wall, in the shadow of darkness waiting for the moment to strike.

Alice was directly across from him, hanging completely sideways and hiding on the lower ledge of an enormous sandbar that clung to the American side. It was made up of sedimentary rock, and sand. Wind blew in sand from the desert, and the river helped solidify it; making it an almost solid piece of the canyon wall. It climbed up the canyon wall a good hundred and fifty yards.

She, too, was ready to pounce.

There was two of them coming at me. They clawed at the rock in the walls, their bare feet digging in as they flew down both sides of the canyon scurrying towards me like crabs. Both were baring their teeth like animals, and the bright blood in their eyes made them look wild.

They might not have been attracted to my blood, but they could still smell it. I was a threat.

I wasn't just the cheerleader. I was the _bait. _That was all sorts of fucked up.

But I still wagged my tail. I was a gigantic dog that was not to be fucked with. I survived a goddamn premeditated plane crash, and the adrenaline inside my veins had me keyed up. I never felt so powerful. Someone was going to get chewed up.

Peter's first victim was a short male who was dressed in a tattered and bloodied T-shirt with blond hair and blood in his eyes. The bloodsucker had been on his side of the wall and had been coming for _me_, but he never knew that death was waiting in a divot of the wall for _him_.

It was just a simple swipe out to catch an object at high velocity as he clung to the canyon wall with one arm. Something easy for him. He slammed him into the canyon wall with so much strength the wall gave. Not once, but twice. Under Peter's strength, the guy looked literally like a corpse who didn't know what hit him.

Shattered remains of rock plummeted to the ground, and into the river. Dust filled the air around him as Peter pulled the vamp's head back so he could slice through his throat with his teeth.

The ghost's kiss of death was brutal, and quick. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him spit out the taste of the vamp's flesh out as he tossed the rest of him down below.

The male coming at me from the other side was coming full bore from the side of the sandbar. I had no doubt at all that these two were newborns, they just seemed to come towards me with no caution at all. With hunger to kill the threat that encroached on their territory.

There eyes were only focused on me, instead of what was around them. And it was Alice I was running to, not Peter. She had been the closest, and I was worried about her because she was just a little thing, compared to the six foot giant crossing her path.

The guy looked like he was wearing the remains of suit, tailored to fit. He still had on a gold wedding ring, and his white shirt was stained heavily with dried blood and dirt. A lawyer, a business man, there was no way to know. He was Mexican, and had probably at one time not just rich with an education and what money could buy him, but rich with life.

Now he was an enemy doing a cunt's calling.

Alice was hunkered down on the ledge of the sandbar like a feisty little kitty, getting ready to pounce on whatever crossed her path, and he was just below her. She sprung from her hiding spot with feline grace.

She caught him by the arm as he passed her and jumped on his back. Her teeth cut through the back of his neck, and the spine-tingling keen of stone flesh being torn by her teeth was the only sound to be heard over the distant thunder. He didn't have time to scream.

Never underestimate a woman. It was a motto I had always lived by. Her eyes I could see, and there was nothing but murder inside the blackness that did not fill her heart. She was like a mother leopard protecting it's cub.

There was beauty in the chaos.

I was able to climb the steep incline of the sandbar where she had landed with the bloodsucker. Its texture wasn't completely solid, it gave way underneath the pads of my feet, giving me traction. Alice was removing his limbs by the time I made it to her.

Pops and cracks and tiny venom splatters. Like they were made out of eggshells and not as strong as they actually were. She made it look easy, like she was just as strong as any of them.

Peter hadn't even bothered. He had tossed the one he had beheaded down to the bank below, and he was already on the move again. His fingers claws as he scurried down his side of the canyon and around the curve, the bend, towards another bloodsucker who had just jumped over the ledge to the outcropping of rock that Jasper and Bella were on.

Panic set in, even more so when I heard her scream. A growl thick with venom along with it.

I stayed on the sandbar. It was huge and easy to climb, and easy to run on. It hugged the curve of the canyon wall. It narrowed quite a bit the further up the incline, and abruptly ended sixty some feet where it couldn't settle against the canyon wall. I slipped when my left, back foot caught the edge, but my other legs were digging in, and I righted myself and kept on running. Alice was on the wall again but still behind me.

The storm was still overhead, but it seemed to have lost intensity. Wind still roared through the canyon, lightning still lit up the sky casting every rock and rough edge out of shadow, but creating new ones. Further away to the east you could hear the sound of torrent of rainfall, but it was moving north.

The fucking weather was just odd. Behemoth beasts in the sky that had once protected us by shielding sight and sound were gone, and now it was dissipating to not cause us hindrance.

Peter had twenty yards left to cover. He moved higher, towards the side of the outcropping. I wasn't able to match his pace, but the canyon grew narrower around the bend, the river less wide.

What he didn't see, I did. Another bloodsucker was higher up on the canyon wall and coming down behind him. After him.

The outcropping of rock wasn't just an outcropping. It was a hole in the canyon wall, a cave almost, but not deep. Sitting awkwardly against the back wall of the hole was Bella, with the biggest 'what the fuck?' look on her face. And there was fear there, too.

The bloodsucker that had jumped up on the ledge however must have met his end just a second or two before. Jasper kicked out a headless corpse, the head dangling by it's hair from his right hand.

Peter reacted to that movement alone. He sailed off the wall and caught the body, ripping its arm off before he realized his mistake. And it was a mistake, but he was moving so quickly it was hard to believe he couldn't have gone after Bella himself.

He caught a glimpse of his woman as he fell from the air, pushing the body away from him, and I had nowhere left to run.

Distractions weren't always a good thing and he would owe me an apology. He needed me more than he realized.

He couldn't _not_ look at her, but in doing so he had forgotten for a moment that there was someone behind him—someone who had decided he needed to die. Who knew, he might have been too distracted to actually realize there _was_ somebody behind him.

A large male, almost as big as Bunyon, catapulted himself off the wall above him and lunged for Peter's head.

I focused on the power in my legs. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I made the leap across, twenty seven feet to the other side.

"Seth!"

It was Bella who yelled my name. The bloodsucker caught Peter's left hip with his teeth at the very moment I bit into the back of his head.

What I didn't see, was another bloodsucker on the wall before I had made that jump.

I had heard the growl, and for a moment I had thought I was in _big_ trouble.

Alice however, was coming at me from the side. A female grabbed onto my leg the moment my teeth met contact with the bloodsuckers neck, and I yelped more out of surprise than the grip she had on me. But she didn't stand a chance in hell because Alice bit right through her arm, as we all fell fifty feet to the river below in a tangle of limbs. Some of them attached and not so attached.

Peter was pulling the vamp's head away from my mouth. The flesh easy to bite through, but the venom disgusting to taste. Like saccharin, mixed with arsenic. It was numbing on my tongue.

The bloodsucker whose arm Alice had bitten off bit _her_ right in the back by her shoulder blade on the way down, but she lost her grip on Alice when we hit the water.

Bella's blood curdling scream echoed throughout the canyon. It was the last thing I heard before we submerged and smashed down into the riverbed. I landed on my side hard enough to bruise my ribs, it was painful enough to suck the air and knock the wind out of me. My reaction was to take a deep breath, and all I got was lungs full of water.

Peter grabbed on to the scruff and flesh on the back of my neck and pulled us to the surface after he disentangled himself. He had to pull me up on the edge of a sandbar that met the river, and he dropped the body of the bloodsucker beside mine. I was already getting my bearings back. I didn't have time for pain.

Alice was already out of the water, facing off and hissing at the female who was crouched down on a rock closer to Peter and I. They were ten yards downstream, by the wall of the sandbar, knee deep in water. The bloodsucker was trapped. She was boxed in. Even if she ran downstream, Alice would be on her because of her position. We had the drop on her.

At least, Peter and Alice did. I was still staggering to my feet, hacking up water. We were still below the cave.

Terror and fight lit up the bloodsucker's eyes, as she seethed out a growl for Alice. She was kind of pretty. Long, dark blond hair, and wearing a white tank top with blue, cotton shorts. That was soaking wet. She had big tits, and she was wearing no bra.

But still I wanted to kill that bitch.

A voice floated down in the darkness.

"Pay attention to what you're doing, goddammit. She's fine."

Jasper sounded more than aggravated. The female growled at his voice, and at Alice. Alice smiled at her, bearing her teeth, bending towards her as if she were about to lunge.

Another voice, floated down in the darkness, and though Peter didn't stiffen beside me, his body seemed to lift towards it.

"I'm okay. I'm...okay."

She sure as hell didn't sound _okay_. Her throat sounded dry, and she sounded like she was in pain. Bella was crying.

Alice, when wet, was pretty hot. The black tank top she wore clung to her just like her jeans did, and the steely smile on her face was very sexy. Water dripped from her hair, and beads ran down her exposed skin.

I was kind of crushing on Jasper's girl, there was no denying it. But it was just a physical attraction kind of thing, because bitch was fierce. She was challenging the female.

The bloodsucker weighed her options, growling ferociously as she eyed both Alice and Peter. Alice hissed back, bearing her teeth in a way as if to say 'come on, bitch. Come and get some.' Her eyes were wild and excited. Hungry even. She wasn't afraid at all. At least she didn't look it.

I wanted a girl like that. A girl who loved but who became a complete bitch when those she cared about were threatened. My thoughts were just my thoughts. I didn't 'want' Alice, I just thought she was what I wanted in a woman.

The vamp shivered from the base of her neck down the length of her spine, and she lunged for Alice.

Alice lunged for the female when she had moved. Peter, however, wasn't in the mood to watch an epic cat fight.

One moment he was right beside me, and the next moment he was behind the bloodsucker, pulling her head back for Alice's teeth. He pulled her good arm back, and bent it in a way no elbow was ever supposed to bend, while Alice delivered the fatal kiss to her neck.

Her scream before her life was snuffed out scratched at my ears like nails going down a chalkboard. Hundreds of them.

It was the first chance I had to really reflect on the fact that there were indeed people dying. That I had also become a murderer to protect the righteous. That girl probably didn't even know she was on the wrong side. She was too wild. Nobody taught her anything but how to kill. They were still people. I kind of felt sorry for that girl. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the fight in her was also fear for her life.

Alice had her head and Peter had her body when they jumped back over to the sandbar. The pain on my right side was pulsating, but I had to ignore it.

A voice floated down in the darkness. "Seth, heads up."

Jasper tossed down the head of the bloodsucker he had beheaded. I caught it and added it to the pile.

Nothing is freakier than two headless corpses with their limbs flailing, looking for their lost heads. Except for maybe _three_. The bloodsucker's body that Jasper had beheaded still had to be retrieved. Alice saw it first. It was hanging by its hand, to a rock on the other side of the canyon. She retrieved it as Peter and I began to remove limbs.

I was removing limbs off of headless vampires. The smell and taste of their sickly sweet venom made me want to hack.

I was going to need a shrink.

When we were finished, all our eyes were looking up the canyon. It was silent, but the wind was blowing in the smell of more of them.

Alice came closer, glancing up at me and reaching for Peter's arm while crouching down at the same time. I had to bend my head down to listen. Her face was wary, her whisper was quick, and smaller than the wind that raged through the canyon.

"There are still three more. One of them is Maria."

Peter looked at me, his eyes full of fury and conflict. He was pissed. It was obvious then that this wasn't going to be easy, and he wanted it all done and over with already.

He confirmed it out loud in a whisper. "They're hiding."

He did something pretty extraordinary. I thought it was, given the fact that he just looked like whatever he would touch he would kill. He reached up to stroke my neck, running his hand through the scruff on my neck.

He pulled and I sank down. The pain on my left side throbbed, but I was healing. Two falls into the riverbed I had lived through without breaking anything major. I never felt so strong in my entire life, but I had never been so keyed up like that before.

I looked upstream. The smell on the wind that blew down the canyon was sickly sweet and repugnant.

Nothing moved in the darkness. There plenty of crevices, plenty of spaces in the walls for vampires to hide. There was another sharp bend two hundred yards further up. They weren't hiding around the bend, they were watching us, just like we were watching them. The hair was raising on the hackles of my neck, and I growled.

We all knew it. We could all feel it.

Alice and Peter looked at each other again. "She's not leaving. And where the fuck is Carlos?" she whispered.

Peter looked at her and blinked. He seethed in his skin, his lips twisting in malice and anger, his breaths more shallow as he sighed through his nose. "He either ran or he's fucking hiding up top." He motioned to the top of the canyon with his head, before he looked at me. "He's not one of them."

Pulsating anger twitched through the muscles in his shoulders and down his back. He didn't want to be stuck in a rut. He wanted to be up in that cave fifty some feet above us. Where someone else was watching us. Or at least trying to see.

Bella was on her hands and knees, looking down over the edge. Her hair was hanging down and the wind was blowing it in her face. Tears and blood stained her cheeks, and she looked a little scared.

She was sporting ugly. The bridge of her nose looked like it was shattered. So did her cheekbone and maybe the socket that held her right eye. Her eyes were swelled, but not just because she had taken a fist.

The thing that was bothersome the most, was Bella's eyes.

They weren't the same as Peter's, but there was nothing but death in them. Her sclera's were blood red, and her pupils were dilated to the extreme.

She should have been dead.

Bella was alive, but she was hurting pretty bad. It was easy to see that it just wasn't physical. Her entire body was quaking because she was emotionally breaking apart.

She looked like she wanted to jump by the way her hands were digging into the earth on the edge. There was so much desperation in her face I honestly thought she just might try it.

She was looking for us, but she couldn't see. What we didn't know was that she could _feel_, and for a moment she had unknowingly looked Peter in the eyes. Jasper was beside her, whispering to her, pulling her up off her hands and knees and further back into the cave. They were whispering to each other, the words indistinct in the wind.

Not one of us was _not_ looking up.

"What do we do?" Alice asked. Nothing but shock etched on her face.

Peter looked back down at her. His desire was so thick that it showed on his face. But some sort of calm had filled him with just one good look at her.

"You two wait here. I'm going hunting."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

When I made that jump, that leap of faith, I was hoping for a miracle. And I got one.

But I was thinking I was going to die. For one moment in the air, I just let go of everything and faced the inevitable. I just decided to relax into it. Literally.

If I hit the bottom, I wouldn't even know it. It would be painless and quick, and an end to life as I knew it.

But the riverbed didn't break my fall, not like I would find out it broke Seth's. Twice.

Things just happened too quickly, and the situation was just too traumatic, mind boggling, and chaotic to begin with. So there was very little detail I could accurately remember.

Someone caught me as I started to fall to the river below. Almost instantly, I was sure that it was that bitch Maria, and I hadn't accomplished anything at all.

But on the way down to the place that would become my calm and volatile sanctuary for twelve minutes, I realized it couldn't have been her. Unless Maria miraculously gained an extra hundred fifty pounds and grew about two feet.

Which wouldn't have been a surprise I suppose, figuring I had just spent what felt like hours with Peter's dead wife. Which should have been more time with my mother. But you can't always have what you want.

Logically, I assumed it was Carlos who may have saw me jump from across the canyon, and he was the one that slammed into me. But the thing was, I still had a sense of direction, even with my eyes closed, and that didn't make sense at all.

The not so logical explanation was an angel had lifted me up, and we were flying away to Heaven while my body slammed into the riverbed of the Rio Grande.

I didn't want to open my eyes, because had that had been the truth, I didn't think my heart would be able to take it.

He or she would be carrying me to Heaven. And even though I was jumping to my death, I still didn't want to go.

But had he been an angel, that fucker needed to go back to flight school, because his flying was shit.

We still fell, and the air was literally sucked out of me when we hit a wall. Or maybe it was before that, I didn't really know. There would not be a part of my body that wouldn't come out of this experience unscathed.

So the logical explanation worked best. Carlos, or another vampire, someone I hadn't seen standing behind me, or not too far away had stopped my attempt to get away. Or my attempt to die. The only thing I did know, was that it wasn't Peter.

It wasn't one of his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. It wasn't his cool fingers gripping into the back of my neck, and it wasn't his chest I found my head being pushed against, in an effort to protect the body parts that mattered the most.

All of which should have clued me into thinking that this was someone else entirely. Someone else I knew. But of course, it didn't. I was living in the land of crazy.

I was scared. And I wish I hadn't have been. Because the pull Peter had on my heart and the key to my perpetual happiness was just right _there_ for a moment. And if I would have had it in me to open my eyes, I might have been lucky enough to see him before I sailed away on the wings of an angel, or into the arms of another vampire.

They both meant the same thing. I'd never see him again.

But we hit the canyon wall, and we slid down. What I didn't know what that had been the best thing in the world to happen, because it put the brakes on his reckless attempt to capture me. And I struggled when the arm around my back left for a moment so he could try and stop our descent. For death, for life, for anything other than to be taken away from that pull, and it was already further away.

It was a grip on my heart, that lessened in intensity the further away he was. But it pulled in direction, and he was still close but still so far out of reach. It was a miracle to feel someone like that, and I couldn't imagine what it would be like to not ever feel it again.

But whoever caught me held onto me for dear life. And I think I cursed him, over and over again.

My right leg hit the wall, and as we slid down, the rocky and jagged surface cut and scraped my knee and sliced through my shin—until I pulled it back out of reflex and pain. I tried to push away from his chest. I ignored the pain and I hit him, over and over.

But then the wall was gone, and I landed on something hard.

I landed on him, and it hurt my back. Didn't break it, but I was already suffering from whiplash, a broken finger, and a shattered face. The fall just aggravated everything, and my lungs felt as if they were on fire. My head was the worst.

He rolled us until he hovered over me. I fought him in the darkness. I slapped at his face and at his hands with both of mine, no matter how much it hurt.

He caught my hands easily, and he pulled my arms up above my head with one of his. I kicked at him with my legs, ignoring all the pain as my knee hit him somewhere in the nether regions. It was all useless, I could have kicked a dog and the fucker would have looked at me like I was complete and utter _fail_.

His weight took my breath away, his legs had my left pinned down between his, and I just gave up.

I had been deaf, dumb, and blind to the world around me at that point. I was deaf, because twenty one tons of steel and moving parts impacted not forty feet away from me at the time I jumped, though I did not know that at the time.

I was dumb because I jumped off a cliff, and I thought an angel caught me. They weren't what legends, history, or even faith called into mind, I knew that for a fact. The mythological wasn't what society perceived it to be, so neither was anything else.

My angels wore black, low cut dresses, and used God's name in vain. There were no halos over their heads, and they were capable of greed. My angels had lied to me, and kept the truth from me just as Peter had.

I was blind because I was afraid, and I had already seen too much. Anything else extraordinary and out of this world would have been too much too take.

The world outside my closed eyelids had been lit up. But I hadn't opened them, not even for a moment. It was the light in the darkness that probably had me closing them in the first place, but I didn't know that.

I had tried to be strong, but I was sick of trying.

But I could still _feel._ And whoever he was, he was being careful. The grip on my hands was not too tight. The fingers holding my neck were holding it because he wasn't so sure it wasn't injured. His hands were the coldest I had ever felt.

He was scared, exhilarated, and..surprised. He was also tense, nervous even.

The hand holding my neck slowly slipped away. I refused to move and I refused to open my eyes. I just cried for all that I was worth.

But in that moment, something very peculiar happened. It was almost as if someone slipped me some Excedrin Migraine, and dosed the shit out like it was candy.

The throbbing pain behind my eyes dulled considerably, the fresh scrapes and cuts in my leg didn't burn so much, the rocky ground actually massaged my aching back, and the pain all over was reduced to a dull ache.

And the extra caffeine boost was just what my system needed.

Something wasn't right. Or maybe it was.

My mind was wrapped inside a bubble of calm that seemed to speak without a voice. _It's okay, you're going to be fine. Let me help you hold your heart, it'll do wonders for you._

"Bella?"

The ringing in my ears made my eardrums throb. The deep tenor of his velvet voice sounded garbled, and far away.

I think I shook my head at him. I was still afraid, because I didn't know who _he_ was. An angel, a vampire I hadn't seen, I just didn't want to see anymore.

I did take a breath. I couldn't _not_ breathe. The taste in my mouth was mouthwatering, and it made my throat burn. I was so very thirsty.

I tasted caramel and spice, and I could swear I smelled leather, though I don't know how. My nose was plugged. It's was all rich, heady, and warm, like it had been baking in the sun all day.

I think I sighed.

He laughed, but even his laugh sounded off in my ears. They were ringing terribly.

"Bella, open your eyes and look at me."

He was trying to be firm, but I could hear the humor in his voice. The sound of it was becoming clearer. But what caused me to open them, wasn't that I could finally recognized it...

He pulled up the eyelid open on my left eye. His finger however pulled away instantly for whatever he saw there. My ears were still ringing, I couldn't hear his gasp. But I felt his shock.

It took me a moment to focus, my eyes were filled with tears and it was dark. But his cheeks were highlighted by an orange glow coming from somewhere above. Lightning reflected off the surface of the ground, off of wall nearby, lighting him up for just a moment.

I closed my eyes for a second and opened them again. Because what I was seeing couldn't be right.

I was sure that I was dreaming again.

He was still there. He was smiling at me, but whatever he saw in my eyes made him wary.

How could I not give him the most perplexed look my face was capable of showing? Because how was it possible that I was looking at Jasper Hale?

Or Cullen. Or Whitlock. Who the fuck knew?

His fingertips on his left hand touched the space underneath my eye, wiping away my tears, and caressing my swollen cheek bone. Ever so carefully, and even after I winced, because the pain was still a little too much.

I closed my eyes three or four times more, and each time I opened them, he was still there. He was smiling tensely down at me like he was afraid, or even in pain. He was waiting for me to say something. I finally had enough.

"Jasper?" My voice sounded off in my own ears. It sounded nasally.

His smiled turned into a more relaxed one. Relief. I felt relief. Even in my dreams I could not escape his gift, and I had never been as so close to him as to smell his own unique and heavenly scent. It was a comfort all in its own.

Little did I know, that in ten minutes time, I would hate his goddamn guts.

"Hi, Bella." He chuckled underneath his breath just a little warily.

A cool fingertip ran over my bottom lip. I licked them. They were dry, and starting to crack. The way he was studying my face was almost as if he had never seen me before. I might have changed a little, but not that much.

I decided to ask the question to just get it out of the way. Jasper Hale in my dreams made no sense. Not that he wasn't a sight. Jasper was gorgeous. Jasper was..man. Jasper used to make all the girls hearts flutter, while he sent them running for the hills.

He was both intimidating and timid. The one who always stayed an extra step back because he was worried about making _me_ nervous, when I never feared him at all. But maybe I should have.

Or maybe he just never had faith in himself. This Jasper didn't _quite_ look like he wanted to eat me.

Yet there he was, on top of me. Holding me down while some of his weight bared off to the side as he relaxed. He didn't move his leg, he kept it between mine. I took a deep breath, the weight on my chest gone.

I was in an intimate position with Jasper Hale. Maybe in my deepest, and darkest desires could this have been completely unacceptable, had Peter been beside me and wanted me to experience the fantasy of all fantasies.

Which he wouldn't, of course. As far as I knew, Peter wasn't into 'sharing' at all. Which neither was I.

This was just fucked up, given the circumstances.

And I was a little upset that it wasn't Peter. It was he who I wanted, not his estranged brother.

A run in with his dead wife bearing deep, dark secrets was already enough to feed my psychosis, but this was just too much. Holding my mother in my arms for one last time had been too much. Pauline and her assist to my feet while she was playing God with the weather had been too much.

There was no logical explanation for him in my dreams. Either I was dead or I had truly gone insane.

At either rate, he was gorgeous. Beautiful even. Frozen in youthful perfection with just a touch of rugged. His skin was honed and shaded ivory, and there was history inside his deep, set eyes. Amber though always suited him best. I could not imagine Jasper with anything else.

Honey blond hung around his face loosely, though he looked just a little disheveled. His face was impeccably strong with youth _and_ age, and my memory didn't do him any justice.

His eyes were black, but full of emotion I could not place. Except for the pain in them. There was pain in them.

"Why are you in my dreams?"

He gave me a strange look, but then he smiled.

"Have I been in your dreams?" He asked almost sweetly. He paused, and furrowed his eyebrows as the left corner of his lips quirked. "Huh. You know..If I could sleep, I wouldn't mind seeing you in _my_ dreams. You've...grown up."

Jasper looked at my tits.

He was flirting with me. And I had asked my question wrong.

"I'm going to let your hands go. Don't fight me, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you," he promised with a whisper.

I nodded at him, and he let my wrists go while sighing and pulling his arm down. I brought my arms down so I could rest my hands on my chest. They were stinging subtly.

Jasper looked at my hands. They were no doubt a mess. There was probably blood caked underneath my fingernails, And I had a broken finger to boot.

He pulled off to the side even more, and he rested on his arm. He didn't move his leg, I could still feel his hip against mine, and his thigh between my legs. I wondered if he was wary that I was going to put up a fight.

But then I realized that maybe his reasons were because of something else, and he was trying to put off my embarrassment.

I had let go of everything when I made that jump. I had even let go of my bladder.

I had peed on his leg. My dream was officially a nightmare.

Nobody want to tell someone they're in an intimate position with that they peed on their leg, let alone Jasper Hale. Maybe fear had controlled my subconscious into letting go because I was jumping to my death, Wasn't I?

I was a walking contradiction, except I was flat on my back. Nothing made sense anymore.

"You're flirting with me, now I know I'm dreaming. Jasper Hale doesn't flirt with Bella Swan. But I guess the nightmare is here you are, and...and I peed on your leg," I told him as I cried.

Jasper laughed.

"Oh, yes he does," he said somewhat seriously. He spoke quietly and he nodded exaggeratedly.

"I've just always had a smooth way of going about it, is all. Me making you _feel_ like you were beautiful, was me always secretly telling you I always thought you had a nice ass. And don't worry about peeing on my leg. If you had to go, you had to go. I'm only mildly disappointed you weren't just _very_ happy to see me." He said with mock disappointment.

I laughed and winced at the same time. My was body was sore. "Shut up."

He laughed too, but it faded away. The smile on his lips was halfhearted, and the rest of his face frowned.

"Why do you think you're dreaming, Bella?" He asked gently.

I swallowed. The tears had never stopped. But at some point, the ringing in my ears had dulled, and my head was clearing even more.

"I've been stuck in a rut the last few hours. Dreams are all that I have left. Plus I'm not so sure I'm not dead." I threw myself into another crying jag. "I jumped off a cliff."

I calmed instantly, and opened my eyes to look at him.

He sighed, and he frowned even more. It was a sad frown, and inside it there was turmoil. But he looked away, out into the darkness for a moment. When he looked back, his face looked at me with focus. It was almost as if he was determined to drill a truth into me.

He spoke with seriousness, but gently. "I want you to listen to me very carefully. Okay?"

"Okay."

He took a breath and winced. "You're not dead, and you're not dreaming. When you jumped off that cliff, I caught you. You're very much alive and you _are_ awake. Alice and I arrived after Maria took you. We flew down here with Peter to rescue you, and that fire you see up there is the plane."

Jasper motioned with his head up and out to the glow coming in. My vision was clearer, and the glow seemed to fill the sky above us.

The top of the canyon.

"He crashed it. If you hadn't have jumped Bella, I do believe you're ass would be roasted about now." He nodded his head, his face falling.

"But you're not. Peter, Seth, Alice, and I, we're all here to take you home. But we're still in big trouble. So you need to snap the hell out of it," he said firmly.

I did, because it was the most logical thing I had heard in hours.

Not only that, but Charlotte's words were forever ringing true in my ears, except now they were with Jasper's voice, and his struggle was real. _ "You're not dead, and you're not dreaming."_

At that point, I had needed his coarse treatment, his dose of reality, and the simplicity with which he spoke with. It there was anyone who could tell what I could have handled at that moment, it would have been Peter, but I settled for Jasper. He was the next best thing.

But there was one thing he said that had completely confused me, because I had accepted a fact. "Did you just say Seth?"

Jasper had went from seriousness to nervousness within an instant before I asked my question, he must have known it all clicked in.

"Yes, I said Seth. Hold on, Bella, because shit is about to get very _real_." He shuddered out in a ground. The black molten liquid in his eyes turned instantly hard, and he looked murderous.

I hadn't realized that he was also paying attention to what was going on around us. Yet he had been.

I was confused again. And I wondered for just a moment if the thirst, if my spilled blood was just too much to take. Because it was still my eyes he was looking in when he viciously growled out.

I didn't even seen him move to his knees. He picked me up and threw me back against a wall, a wall I would come to know as a hole inside the middle of the canyon wall. A cave. But that wasn't what was important at the time.

I hadn't known what to think when he threw me back, and he didn't throw me back hard. It was just a simple lift of my leg and arm, and a toss on my butt. It was still jostling. Still enough to bruise my ass, and my head slammed back against the wall.

But the blackout was put off. Energy like no other soared through my veins, and my senses were overloading with threat, and fear.

I couldn't see shit. There was only shadows dancing in the darkness. I was still getting my bearings, still adjusting to what was happening around me.

Jasper was crouched down in front of me, when someone jumped inside and slammed into him. I felt the air rush in front of me and I heard rock collide with rock, before I heard the sound of a high pitch grind.

Of steel shredding through steel. Of teeth cutting through stone. Of someone's attempt to scream abruptly cut off because he lost the ability to breathe.

I had heard it before.

In the orange glow that lit up the edge of the cavern, I saw a silhouette of a body fall to the earth on his knees.

But none of that was what was important, because my heart yanked and I felt the pull like I never felt it before.

He was just a blur, sailing across the air in front of the cave. But I knew that it was Peter. One had to wonder if he sprouted wings.

The love, the semi-bane of my existence, was there in the glow of the light from the sky, and he caught that body as Jasper kicked it out of the cave.

But my eyes focused on something else moving.

Across the canyon, on the other side, was the physical answer to the last question I had asked Jasper. Seth was in the form of a gigantic sandy wolf leaping across the divide, because another vampire was trying to kill the semi-bane of my existence.

But it was dark, and so was Seth. He was huge, at least four times the size of Peter. And his snarling growl chilled me to my bones.

Peter. And Seth.

My heart thudded heavily. It even stopped, for just a moment.

He was _so_ close.

Seth had jumped from across the canyon, from a ledge. But more importantly, Seth was _alive_. At that moment, they both had my heart, but Seth was getting the most attention. He was a beast.

"Seth!"

Peter had darted out in the air from the wall, trying to kill what Jasper already killed. But there was another shape diving down at him, a vampire, catching Peter's hip with his teeth.

I said Seth's name, when I should have said both. But his at the time caused me to react, because someone else was behind him. Someone had come off the side of the canyon, and had lunged for Seth.

Another blur—a small one—flew into the darkness from the other side as well. Seth was going for the vampire that had bit into Peter's side, and Seth had that vampire by biting the back of the neck. Another vampire was trying to kill him. And Alice, was biting the arm off _that_ vampire by the time they fell, and I could see no more.

Flying bodies everywhere, and just a glimpse of the man I loved the most.

Seth was there with Alice and Jasper. They were all there.

I scurried over to the edge, ignoring the pain in my finger and everywhere else, just as Jasper let his feelings be known.

"Jesus Fuckin' Christ."

He was to the right of me, holding someone's head. By his hair.

Things cleared up even more so. I was in a cave, maybe a hundred and fifty feet down from the top of the canyon, and technically in Mexico. The orange glow was coming from a large fire that seemed to swallow up the entire top of the American side, where Peter had crashed the plane.

The river was about fifty feet below. Peter, Seth, and Alice had fell into the river. Seth had jumped from what looked like a gigantic mound of sand that was connected to the canyon wall, on the Texas side. A sandbar.

I wouldn't have hit the river, if I hadn't have been caught. I would have hit that sandbar, and I would have died. But I jumped for all the right reasons.

It was all true. Every moment I had experienced with Charlotte and my mother, it had all happened. Peter was there, and he came _big_.

My God, there really wasn't nothing he wouldn't do for me.

He wouldn't pick up his socks laying on the bedroom floor, even after I had told him twice. But he'd crash a fucking jet to save me, and he probably didn't have to think twice.

I didn't think it was possible to love him more, but I did, in that moment I did. He was my miracle.

There was sick truth I was going to have to deal with, and I didn't know exactly how I was going to do that. If Peter had been a part of my entire life, I couldn't understand how he could _not_ resent me, even if Charlotte was the one who had given him..me.

A reason to live. Because how much had he seen, how much did he know? How long had he waited, and what lengths did he go to?

I was twenty one years old. Twenty one years was a long time. Had he lived his own life, and not just mine?

I knew the answer to that. Of course he had. He had built a legacy. But did he do it for himself, and not just for me?

Yes he did. He was just as passionate about drawing concrete as he was about putting the fear of God into someone not holding up their end.

I had my choices throughout life, maybe some things I wish I would have done differently. I chose to love Peter, and I would love him even if I wasn't tied to him in such an inexplicable way as the pull to my heart, or the other half of my soul. But his choices, and maybe some of his decisions, had been taken away from him. He deserved to have what he truly wanted, and if twenty one years ago that meant death, he should have had it.

How could he not resent me, when the promise of a happy ever after was taken away? How could he not go mad with hatred for everything and everyone when history repeated itself all over again, because of choices I made?

He wasn't the semi-bane of my existence. I had become the bane of his.

But I loved him _so_ much.

This was just the beginning of the journey my mind would take for the next few minutes. I would have stupid thoughts, and some not so stupid. My inner child would come out, yet even my thoughts would be cold, hard truths. Because I had been wronged.

And I would see his ugly side. I would see the person he locked away, so long ago. I would not love him less, I would love him _more_.

An eye for an eye.

I didn't have the answers, but I knew someone that did. In fact, I was sure at that moment I knew at least two; who were in the flesh, and in the river below.

I couldn't hear the river, or when they splashed down. The wind was howling and my ears were still ringing. It was too dark to see the river in the canyon.

"Jasper!" I was frantic.

He was right beside me, but he was standing. I was on my hands and knees, and the pain in my leg was a little bothersome as the raw flesh burned.

I was bleeding. My leg was bleeding. And Jasper was acting like he could care less about my blood. It was smeared all over the skin of my chest. It was no doubt oozing from my leg. My shirt was still damp with it.

"It's okay. Peter got bit, but he's fine. Seth killed a newborn, and Alice is about to slice and dice the bitch that bit her. They've killed three so far," Jasper said with just a strike of indifference.

I couldn't see nothing, but my heart was full. My heart was being pulled from below. Peter was down there with Seth, and at that point there wasn't a greater relief I could have ever felt.

For one moment, I had seen him. It hadn't been enough. It hadn't been enough by a long shot.

"Peter?" But I couldn't find my voice.

Jasper spoke with aggravation into the darkness, "Pay attention to what you're doing, goddamn it. She's fine."

He was angry.

I sat up to look at him. I had to ignore the head hanging in his hand down by his side. I was a little irritated because he was being mean.

"Why are you so angry?"

Jasper looked down at me and grinned somewhat. "I'm not. But your mate is being careless. If he's too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to what he's doing, he's going to get himself or someone else hurt. There's still more of them out there, Bella. At least three, and one of them is Maria," he said solemnly and quietly. He was smelling the air, and looking down the canyon. He was looking upstream.

I understood more at that moment. If he was worried about me, he wouldn't be able to fight effectively, and we were _all _still in danger.

For one moment, he had lost his focus. And I was sure I was more worried for him. For all of them.

I only wanted to have the chance to fight about it later. But there was only one thing I knew I needed to do, just so Peter would know.

"I'm okay, I'm.." I called down, but the tears were coming even more. "..okay."

I looked up at Jasper. He didn't seem like he was worried about them at all. But he was hearing and seeing things I couldn't. He was wearing jeans and a black long sleeve t-shirt. He had the physique of Peter, though he was just a tad smaller.

A goddamn head was staring back at me. I looked away to swallow the need to gag.

"Make that four," Jasper said softly. He was staring down into the canyon with the same mask of indifference his face supported earlier.

They killed the one that had tried to kill Seth.

I slowly leaned back over the edge, to try and look for things I couldn't see, but so desperately wanted to. The pull he had on my heart was amazing, and so very frightening.

I honestly thought about jumping down. I knew Peter would catch me, he had caught me before.

Jasper called down into the darkness again. "Seth, heads up."

He had called Seth's name like he had said it a thousand times already, and threw that head down into the darkness.

I had obviously missed out on a whole lot.

Seth was sure to still be angry with me, I had put him at risk. But he was there, fighting for my life, right along with Peter, Jasper, and Alice. Three vampires, and one of them killed humans.

I didn't understand anything. If there had been anyone I would have suspected to have walked away, it would have been Seth.

"I can't see them."

Jasper squatted down next to me, and pulled me up. "They can see you. They're all relieved. You just helped him more than you could possibly realize. I don't think I have to tell you that this has effected him in a very bad way, Bella." He whispered.

Jasper pulled me up on my feet, and away from the edge. I looked around the canyon. The sky above still looked angry and the wind was cold. Even the tendrils of hair hitting my face made it hurt.

"No, you don't."

Maliciousness poured out from almost everything, and maybe everyone. Even Jasper to an extent. He was looking up the canyon, and he was glaring with so much hate, I could feel it course through my veins, and it made me shudder from the inside out.

"Where is she? Where is Maria?"

Something about my tone made Jasper look at me, and for a moment the corner of his left lip went up wryly. He really was a sight for sore eyes, not because he was gorgeous. Never in a million years would I expected him and Alice to be there with Peter. I just couldn't get over it.

"She's hiding," he whispered as he looked down the canyon again. "And waiting. It's just feeling, but she's not going anywhere. If I know Maria, her thinking is she'll still be able to kill not just you, but all of us. Plus there's still two more." He whispered quietly in my ear.

"But why? She's outnumbered. And she's afraid of you, isn't she?" I asked.

Jasper looked down at me. He was frowning.

"Yes. But her greed, her desire for vengeance and victory outweighs everything else, even her sense for self preservation. Killing one of us will make the others weak, she knows that. Maria is the most vindictive yet foolish bloodsucking cunt I have ever met. Even _you_ know that," he whispered. Jasper winked.

He was right, to my own extent I did.

I suppose it was like falling back into step with the old life, having never missed a beat. His choice of words had been my own, and I knew instantly that Alice must have been keeping them aware of my whereabouts, and all things happening around me.

I knew I didn't have to explain anything to Jasper. It was in the way he looked at me with knowing eyes, and a quirk on his face.

His arm was around me and he was supporting my weight. He was holding me back a little, in case anything bad came flying out of the darkness. Or running. Or climbing down the walls.

But he pulled me back even more. "What are we doing? What's Peter doing?"

"Whisper, Bella. I can hear you just fine. They're waiting below. Come on, you need to sit down."

Jasper pulled me further back into the cave.

The hole we were in, was about fifteen feet wide by the ledge. The ceiling, the canyon wall was about ten feet, but it narrowed and lessened deeper inside. There were dark and deep crevices highlighted in the glow on the walls.

They were probably stained and caked with guano. I could smell the ammonia somewhat. Easy places for bats to hide, and any other creature that lived in those parts. It was one of the bat caves Peter had told me about.

Jasper helped me sit against the back wall where the other wall met. In the corner, so to speak. And I did need to sit. Even with the help of his gift, I was extremely dizzy, my head was pounding, and it hurt just to try and focus on anything.

Thunder sounded through the canyon and the heat lightning was still occasionally lighting everything up outside. It was dark inside the cave, but the light coming from the fire up above and the lightning itself let me see just enough of the outside world. The walls surrounding me however were not a comfort. There was only one way out.

My eyes were swelling, my right much more worse than my left. Another hour and it would probably be swelled shut.

"Why can't they come up here? There's enough room."

"Tactics, Bella. We stand more of a chance to luring them out if we stay separated. If she thinks she can pick us off one at time we stand more of a chance to draw that bitch out," he whispered a little curt.

He sat down next to me on the right, grabbing my good hand. He interlaced our fingers and rested our hands on my thigh.

I knew he wasn't upset because I asked. He was upset because she wasn't _dead_.

The pain, the dizziness, the nauseousness, all seemed to fade to a dullness rather quickly.

"Thank you," I whispered. It was all that I could think of to say, though a million questions were running through my mind. I was just too overwhelmed. Too worried about Maria 'picking' anyone off. I didn't like this game.

And there was plenty of truths still left to be discovered.

Plus, I also realized someone else was missing. The one person I would have suspected that would have come for Peter seeking vengeance. I was glad Garrett stayed away.

It would have been too much to see him at that point, to know he had lost so much while I had managed to live after all. It was still my fault. My fault we were in this predicament to begin with. It was my fault Debbie was dead.

I could feel Jasper looking at me, and I knew he was 'feeling' everything. I'm sure he didn't envy his gift at that point in time.

"You're welcome," He whispered courteously.

I could only see a little of his face. The pale contrast stuck out amongst the darkness around us.

It didn't escape my notice, but he seemed just a little guarded. It was almost as if he were as curious about me as I was about him, and how they all came to be there.

I decided to ask how.

"How..how did this all happen? I mean, Seth is still alive." I had to pause to collect myself, the memory of him underneath my truck was vivid. "He was dead, Jasper. When I saw him, he was dead."

I didn't know what else to say, but I also answered my own question.

The wolves healed. Peter and Garrett must have arrived before the vampires that stayed behind had a chance to kill him. He hadn't been dead at all.

Jasper chuckled quietly. "Seth was playing dead. He was stuck underneath your truck. It was a smart thing to do, they weren't anticipating an attack," he paused.

"Look, before we talk about this, I need you to promise me something. I need you to stay calm. But everything...and more importantly, _everyone_, is alright."

I caught the inflection in his tone. "What do you mean?" I whispered.

Jasper spoke quietly in my ear, he tilted his head closer so I could hear him.

"Peter and Garrett killed the two vampires that stayed behind to kill Seth and Debbie. Alice and I arrived shortly after that. Debbie.." He paused.

"She's dead, Jasper. I already know it. She was dying the last time I saw her."

"Don't take this the wrong way Bella, but you don't know shit. Debbie is _not_ dead. Well, technically she will be, but..."

"What?"

He squeezed my hand. "Garrett bit her. She'll live, but she won't be human."

I looked at him. The lightning flashed and I could see his face. His smile was bittersweet.

There was no way to accurately describe the amount of relief that washed over me. It was so overwhelming, it actually made my heart ache. And in a way, I suppose it sucked the grief out of me within an instant.

But the ache was welcome. Garrett couldn't come, because he was taking care of her.

It was as it should have been.

It had been Charlotte, holding back important information. For whatever reason she deemed necessary.

"_Seth and Debbie are right where they need to be, you can believe that."_

But to have this thwarted on them at the time, was still awful. They loved each other, but neither one was prepared for this.

"Bella, _breathe_."

I hadn't noticed Jasper had put his arms around me, and I hadn't noticed I had grabbed onto him to cling at his chest. I was stuck in a wail like an infant, because the relief was so tremendous.

Jasper telling me to breathe was enough to break through the wave of guilt, through the relief, and even the happiness I felt. I took more than a few breaths, I took plenty.

"God, is it so wrong for me to be happy? They weren't ready for this."

He brushed the hair away from my face. "No, it's not. Debbie knows what's happening to her. She's scared and her pain is awful, but she'll get through it. Garrett is upset, but he's dealing with it. In a way, it's better it happened this way. He's already told her a million times over he loves her, and she knows it true because he couldn't let her go," he whispered.

Maybe it was, but what was done was done. Debbie was going to be a vampire.

The thoughts were sinking in quickly. Her life was gone. Work, her brother, her _home_. She lost everything. She wasn't ready. What is God's name were we going to do?

Jasper tensed. I felt it in his chest for just a moment, but then he relaxed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's okay. Don't worry about anything else right now. We'll take care of it when we get home, I promise," he said, patting my shoulder softly. "Look out, can you see him?" He asked.

I pulled away from Jasper, wiping away the stinging tears, and I looked out across the canyon.

The lightning gave him away. Seth was slinking his way up the ledge of the sandbar, coming close to stopping at the end where it was broken off. He stayed low, as low as he could get. He crouched down on all fours, yet ready to spring off if he needed to.

He was looking in the cave. I couldn't tell completely but I was sure of it.

"I see him. What are they doing?"

"Spreading out a little. Peter's moved off a bit, I think. Alice has moved up the wall, above us," he said.

"What do you mean, 'you think'?" I whispered to him a little stressed.

Jasper snorted a short chuckle from his nose. "Because I can't smell the son of a bitch, and I can't hear him when he doesn't want to be heard. He's made plenty of noise so far, but he's calmed down immensely. Don't worry about him, Bella. Peter can handle himself just fine."

He was deadly, I did know that. You don't go through what those two went through to survive and not come out of it with a persona, or heavy hearts. But Jasper telling me not to worry about him was the stupidest thing that ever came out of his mouth.

He sighed. He realized it.

And I didn't know if it was just my intuition that picked it up or if he was projecting it, but he seemed more than a little conflicted, or maybe even impatient.

"Bella, you wouldn't know who Maria might have with her, would you?"

"Carlos." I answered immediately. "You remember him, don't you?"

My eyes were on Seth. No matter how big he was, no matter how frightening he looked, he was still just a kid trapped inside a gigantic wolf's body. If he couldn't stand to fight for Jake, how could he be there fighting for us?

"No. It's not Carlos. Carlos' scent ain't on the wind and we can't hear him. He might have just made a run for it," he said in an aggravated whisper. His inner country boy was making an appearance.

"He was on the other side of the canyon watching for Peter. Do you really he could have run away?" I asked. "I got the sense that he and Maria were mated, in a way."

I could tell he was shaking his head. I was also picking up something else from Jasper, and I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was, or even how I felt it. It was almost as if he were distracting me, or leading me into something.

"I don't know, but I wouldn't put it pass him to bolt the fuck out of Dodge. Carlos might love Maria but he's also smart enough to know that in the long run, he doesn't mean shit to her. He's a coward. He always stayed one step behind and let others do his dirty work for him. Carlos has a very keen sense for self preservation. He's a chicken shit...a follower, not a leader."

He paused and sighed slowly. "He might be lurking about, waiting to see what happens, but he's not with her."

But there was so many possibilities, and given Jasper's history I was sure he was thinking of every single one. If Carlos ran, a problem still existed. If Maria ran, we would all be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. Or even if she died, who was to say Carlos wouldn't seek vengeance?

He was a 'family oriented man.' He was the monster that helped tear Charlotte apart. He was the son of a bitch that had told Maria Jasper had left her, and had left with Peter. He was the bastard that had put his filthy hands on me.

"I wouldn't mind seeing that slimy fucker die. I can't..." I choked on my words.

I didn't want to have to look over my shoulder for the rest of my life. I didn't want to have to live with the thought that either one of them was still out there. Carlos was just as evil and vindictive as Maria was.

I wanted to see both of them die.

The wind blew in through the cave. The temperature had dropped dramatically, and it was kind of chilly. But the storm seemed to be moving away, off to the north. The glow coming from the top of the canyon was fading.

Pauline's work was done. My God, the miracle of it all.

Jasper released my hand and sat up a little. I felt him moving beside me, but I didn't know what he was doing.

"Don't worry. We'll be going after him and Maria regardless if they run now. Too much damage has already been done, too many mistakes have already been made. We're not going to let this shit come back and bite us in the ass again. It's gonna end now. Here, put this on. You're freezing." He said in a subdued whisper.

I had taken my eyes off Seth, to see what Jasper was doing. I had the sense that Jasper had meant more than he intended with the words he chose to use; and while the past was brought to mind, I didn't put much thought behind it. I had plenty of people and things to worry about.

I couldn't even begin to imagine what this was doing to Peter.

"Thank you."

"No problem," he whispered as he helped me put it on.

My body was already stiffening up. I was cold, and I felt disgusting. My shorts were wet because I lived truth inside a dream, and because I had pissed in them. I had vomit and blood on my shirt, my leg was oozing, and I could feel the fine grit from sand all over.

I had to wonder if I'd ever see a bath again. Even the simplest of pleasures seemed so out of reach.

Jasper of course, picked up on my thoughts through my feelings.

"This part of the river is really clean. A mile downstream the canyon ends, and the water is calm, and warm. Alice broke into your house to get some clothes for Seth. She brought you some, too. We'll take you down there so you can clean up. I have twenty bucks that says she even brought you a bar of soap," he whispered, a smile in his voice.

"I'm not taking that bet. I hope she did," I told him.

Jasper chuckled almost silently. He sighed again. "Can you think of anyone else? Did you hear anything, or see anything?"

I felt that feeling again. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

Peter had used the plane as weapon against the threat, I had already figured that much out. Jasper had said they had killed four so far, and he had killed one. But there was still Maria plus two more. There had been a lot more up on the edge of that canyon. Had he killed them all?

"Did the crash take them all out? I mean...there was so many. I counted maybe fourteen, but I couldn't see them all."

"He got twelve. Alice said there was seventeen up on the ridge. He had enough fuel on that plane to take out at least four city blocks and _then_ some. You know, I told you once before you were worth it, apparently you're worth thirty million."

There was humor in that velvet whisper, and he brought back the memory of those very same words he had said to me that night, so long ago. It was sort of nostalgic, in a way, and here was fighting for me, and fighting for Peter again.

"Thirty seven million, plus taxes and freight," I sobbed out. "If you're finally going to put a dollar amount on my worth, at least get it right."

Jasper laughed while he tenderly pulled me into another hug.

I felt him take a deep breath and wince. When I tried to pull away, he just tightened his hold.

"I'm pretty sure that in Peter's eyes, you're priceless. And you are."

He kissed my cheek, as if nothing bothered him at all, before he let go.

There was several things racing through my mind, but at that point I couldn't help but wonder. How was it now he seemed to have almost complete control when I was covered in blood, my leg was still oozing, yet he lost control over one little drop? I didn't blame him, but Jasper was as calm and as collected as I imagined he could be.

I wasn't going to question it. If he was putting it out of mind, I wasn't about to bring it up.

There was no time for my bitterness, but it was still there. And of all that had happened after they left, of all the times I had needed them the most, this was probably the most important. The time that mattered. How could I not forgive them for leaving me, what now seemed so long ago?

Everything just seemed to hit me all at once.

Alice had an inside track. Not just to me, but to Peter.

There were reasons she stayed away, and I realized that just maybe, maybe they all had to do with him. The realization of that hit me like a freight train, and my chest ached once again.

I heard Jasper groan underneath his breath, and I felt his sorrow. There wasn't a feeling more profound at that moment other than that and the pull. And I had to wonder just how much he knew.

My instincts, no matter how fucking crazy they were, were telling me he knew a lot.

And that changed everything. What Jasper didn't know however, was exactly what the bitterness I harbored was for.

It was for the _lie, e_ven if they weren't around to throw it in my face. I could play stupid.

Suddenly I didn't want to be holding his hand anymore, but I held fast.

"Bella," he started.

"Don't. Don't you dare apologize to me about trying to take a bite out of me. If there is anything I've always understood it was that night had been a mistake, so don't you dare apologize for _that_. I think we _both_ know we have bigger issues to deal with right now, so don't even fucking bring it up."

"Did you just hiss at me?" He whispered, a little taken aback.

And I had, before I had spit out my demand in a fast whisper. I really didn't know what he was going to say, and I didn't care.

There was only one way to get to the bottom of the matters. There was only one way I was going to find out the truth, about everything and about everyone. Including the one that mattered the most. I was going to have to demand it.

God help them all if we managed not to die, which was the only thing I needed to concern myself with at that precise moment. But I didn't do that, at all.

My patience was gone. I didn't have time for anymore bullshit.

It only meant one thing. Maria had to die, and as quickly as possible.

I ignored Jasper's last question, and thought for a moment about the one he had asked before. The front of my head hurt so goddamn bad, that even with the help of Jasper's gift, it was almost virtually impossible to just put everything else out of mind.

"Bella,"

"Shut up."

I payed no attention to him, but I still felt his shock as he let go of my hand. Jasper adjusted himself so I could no longer feel him brushing against the skin of my shoulder, or his leg beside my mine.

"_I'm going across to watch the southern flank in case he goes around. Miguel and Portia will be on the ridge."_

"There was still two more, you know. Back on the ridge on the other side of the canyon? They were lookouts. They were watching for Peter. A man and a woman. Miguel and Portia," I told him.

I felt around for his hand. God knows what he was feeling from me. Betrayal and pain, love and bitterness, conflict and anger, the list could probably go on and on. But he just didn't know it wasn't all for him. He was distancing himself. He was hurt, and bitter himself.

The orange glow from the fire up above the canyon was nearly gone. The lightning wasn't flashing so much. I was actually afraid of the dark.

Somehow I knew there would be no 'divine' intervention. They had done what they could, and the rest was up to us. To me, to Peter, to all of us. She should have fucking said it wasn't going to be easy!

There was no way I could lose it now.

Jasper sighed resignedly and grabbed my hand, weaving his fingers with mine. Though touching him was the last thing I really wanted to do, my fear outweighed everything else and I needed that little measure of comfort.

I looked away from Seth who was just a shape across the canyon. I couldn't tell what he was staring at, but I looked towards Jasper or at least where his head would be. He was just a darker shadow.

"I'm sorry, I can't talk about this now. I can't think straight. I'm just..I'm scared. I'm mad, and I don't want to wait for that bitch to come find us. I don't want her to get away!"

Once again, I threw myself into a crying jag.

He turned his body a little and cupped my face in the cool palm of his hand. He bowed his head to touch mine. I was surrounded inside a blanket of calm and endearment, one I was easily susceptible at welcoming.

Still I wanted to lash out. I was acting like such a fucking lunatic. Even a baby. How could Peter bear witness to my life and love someone who was so goddamn weak?

"Shh, It's okay, Bella. It's gonna be okay. It makes sense now. Maria wouldn't just let anyone watch for him. Newborns are too unstable, they get distracted too easily. Those two are trained. And if Carlos is still lurking about, Maria thinks the odds are in her favor. You're not a threat, and she probably doesn't think Seth is one, either," he whispered.

I was picking up that sense again. But for all I knew, it might have been just me. The thing was, there was so much tension coming from Jasper—from his voice and the way his fingers twitched against my head—that I could now easily tell that sitting in that cave was really bugging the hell out of him, and not just because of my blood.

And I knew then what to do. He wanted to go after her. I wanted her to die, and I wanted to go home. We were going to have to force her out, and the only way I could figure on doing that was to draw her out.

To put those maybe she wanted dead the most on display.

She probably wanted us all dead at that point, but how could she deny herself the opportunity to take out the bane of _her_ failed and miserable existence? The anger, the fury in Maria's eyes just a short time before was just a mask for _her_ pain. And her pain had a name.

Jasper. And maybe she still wanted me, too.

I had no time for anymore of this bullshit, and I didn't think he did either. But he wasn't going to admit it.

Jasper was the guard. There was a reason Peter sent him after me, and maybe it was because Peter was afraid he would fail, where Jasper would not.

Jasper was doing what Peter wanted him to do. Not what _he_ wanted to do.

They were both playing the defensive positions because it was 'in my best interests'.

Fuck that.

His hand fell away from my face, his left was still holding mine.

"We're playing a waiting game, aren't we?" I asked.

"Yeah." He answered right away.

"I don't want to fucking play it anymore. I want to go home." I told him, out loud.

The shape across the divide—Seth—looked liked he lifted his head up somewhat. I didn't know if they could hear our whispers, but it was important that they knew that enough was enough.

It was important for Peter, to hear those words. Just so he would know that I had enough.

I expected some type of rebuttal. I expected Jasper to say that we had to wait it out, that we had to wait and see what kind of move Maria would make. But he did not answer me right away.

"I'm getting the feeling you're trying to tell me something, Bella."

God, how I wished I could see the look on his face, because I swear there was hope in his voice.

I was so afraid, so full of ineffable fear that my request came out shakily, and Jasper didn't do anything to alleviate that shit. I was glad he didn't. In made the insane decision that much easier to accept, for some reason.

I leaned closer to him to whisper. "Let's bait her. She's fucking mad right now, right? She's not thinking clearly. Take me back up to the top of the canyon. Show me off like the bona fide human blood bag that I am. How could she resist that? How could she resist _you_?"

I could feel the conflict and the utter mortification coming out from him in waves. For a moment, I think he lost focus on the drug he was supplying to my head, because pain pulsed behind my eyes like it hadn't before.

Jasper lowered his head closer to my ear. His breaths were unsteady. Did he fear death, like I did? Or was he just picking up what I was probably dishing out in gallons full? I didn't know.

But I could taste the sweetness on his breath, and it reminded me of Peter. It helped soothe the raging fear and anger inside me.

What was I going to do with Peter? I loved him, but the betrayal and the lies were pretty goddamn overwhelming and extensive. The idea alone was still incomprehensible.

"Jesus Christ, Bella."

"I know. Are you scared?"

He didn't answer me right away.

"A little. But I need to tell you something."

"What?" I prepared for the worse.

"He made me promise to kill him if something happened to you, if you died," Jasper paused. "Which is why we're sitting here in the first place. I can't risk you."

But he wanted to.

The admittance of that was not surprising, but it was still overwhelming. It was also just a small admittance into what Jasper was thinking the entire time. He knew we made the perfect bait.

And there was no hiding the emotions with such a prospect in mind. The fear, the horror of killing Peter was so intense, I didn't believe he had it in him to even do such a thing.

I had been selfish enough to want it myself. There could be no heaven, without Peter in it. There could be no life, either. I didn't know what I was going to do with him, and I didn't know what I was going to do without him.

That was something I was going to keep to myself, until the truth came out. If it came out at all. I owed him that much. I was so angry with him! The deceit, the lies, all this time he had been holding it back, and though I could partially understand why, it made my heart hurt so bad that he could think so little of me. That he couldn't give me the same respect I had always given him with the truth.

Fear of losing me had driven him to lie, to hold back the truth and all that it was. He might has well have punched me square in the chest with no restraint over the strength I knew he was capable of showing.

Goddamn him. But he was already damned. He was nothing but a lying, deceitful bastard.

And Jasper was one himself.

_Like father, like son._

"You lying, son of a bitch. You've known all this time that the more we wait, the more you chance on losing Maria or letting her come up with a..a plan of her own! Haven't you?" I seethed out. But still I whispered. It took some fantastic, fucking effort.

"You don't understand. I.."

"Fuck _you_. I understand plenty. You couldn't begin to _know_ what I understand! At some point, the two of you decided to play it safe, when both of you want to kill her so bad you can taste it! 'Protect Bella at all costs', right? Peter can't live without me, and you can't stand the thought of killing him. Well guess what? It's my life. It is _mine, a_nd I'll risk it. I'll risk Peter's. I'll even risk yours. I'll risk every goddamn one of you, just so that bitch can die. You fucking owe me, Jasper Hale! You and Edward took my goddamn best friend away from me and you fucking owe me! So pay up!"

I knew I was hitting way below the belt. I was lying, in fact. And I knew he'd be able to somewhat see right through it. Alice had been and always was responsible for herself.

I was capable of greed, just like anyone else. My own greed had already taken the life of one good woman for all the right reasons, and my own greed would hopefully take the life of one of the devil's whores. My own greed, had put Seth in the position he was in just because I wanted to keep my family.

It would kill me to lose anyone at this point. But I also knew that if we acted now, Maria's death was a sure thing. Of that I was positive.

'They' were waiting for her. She had to die now.

There could be no way I could live the rest of my life always looking over my shoulder, or waiting for Peter to come home because his hand was finally forced to hunt her down no matter how long it took. I refused to live under both of those notions.

I could feel Jasper's eyes and his gift, dissecting every little piece of me. And it was an amazing thing itself, to feel so much coming out of him. Hurt, curiousness, shock, sympathy, and fear. Above all, fear.

I wondered if everything I said was in vain. If it flowed in one ear and out the other.

We were already close to begin with, but he leaned forward and touched his cheek to mine before he turned to kiss me lightly.

"Leaving you...was the best thing we ever did," he said quietly, sighing in defeat.

I had to think about that carefully, because it almost caused me to react against my better judgment. But it was just that little burst of reverence I heard in his voice that convinced me he didn't quite mean it as it was said.

I knew he meant it as it was now. If they had never have left, if Edward had never made the choice, I possibly wouldn't have been in this position in the first place. I might not have met Peter this way.

I might have clung to false love and the hopes of a girl who had not truly seen the world through my own eyes, and the eyes of someone like Peter. Even under the false pretenses, I could feel it and experience like I never had before. I could appreciate it more. I could take the life of someone like Marcy and mourn the loss not because I took it away, but because the world was a better place with someone like her in it.

And I was incapable of becoming numb, even when I thought everything was ripped away.

My eyes were open.

The Cullen's' leaving _was_ the second best thing to ever happen to me. The third best thing would want me dead for what I wanted to become, and the first was out there, who could not hear the things being said.

I said nothing. Why did he, why did Jasper have to betray me, too? I expected more from him, because I respected his patience and a gift that he could have probably ruled the world with if he weren't a creature who generally liked to stay on the outside of things, always looking in. His gift was more powerful then mind reading, because he could 'feel' the soul behind the thoughts. He could see into the heart of matters.

But I couldn't respect this.

And yet I was so fucked in the head that I couldn't help but still feel guilty because of what _I_ said to him. To get what _I_ wanted.

Jasper moved to stand up. He kept a hold of my hand, putting his right hand underneath my other arm pit to lift me.

"I'm sorry, Jasper. I'm sorry if I hurt you."

I just wanted him to know. When it came to Jasper, he didn't owe me nothing.

"No, you're not. You used my weakness against me, Bella, and there couldn't be a better reason to use it. Just so long as you understand it's a one shot deal. Peter is going to kill me," he whispered with finality. And anger.

I deserved his refusal to acknowledge it out loud. And he didn't need to worry. I would never ask him for anything ever again. Nor would I let Peter kill him. If I lived.

He kissed the top of my head as I re-oriented myself. We were standing. In just the short amount of time my body had managed to stiffen up considerably, and my head was pounding, along with my heart.

"Just so long as you understand you shouldn't feed me with bullshit just to get what you want. Peter holds the goddamn franchise on that. I have a brain, you wouldn't believe the shit I know," I whispered to him irritatedly.

He was in the process of letting me stand on my own two feet, turning around to look out of the cave. But he turned back towards me.

"Let's get one thing straight. What I need, is for you to live. Not just because Peter needs you but because..well, because I care for you in such an inexplicable way that it would be impossible to sum it up in just a few words, and we don't have time," he whispered harshly.

Inexplicable, because I wasn't supposed to know. Inexplicable, because Peter was more than just his best friend, he was his brother. Or even his son. That bond was deeper than the one he shared with Edward. I was sure of it. And if Peter loved me, if he needed me to survive, Jasper felt inclined to protect me.

The thought that they were ultimately here for him was a slap to the face. It might have been a petty thought, but I was open and raw to everything.

Jasper was there because he had to fix some mistakes. He had to make things right again. And he was scared, because he might have been fucking it up.

Can I ask you something?" I choked out.

He wrapped his arms around me, and pulled me into another gingerly hug. But I did not hug him back.

"You can ask me anything you want," he whispered.

I reached up and pulled his head down even more so I could put my lips beside his ear, and ask the question in breath. There would be no way he would be able to hide the truth, and I could only think of one way to ask it.

"When Charlotte died, when Peter was alone, did my life flash before his eyes?"

It had the desired effect.

It was as if I had rolled him over with a goddamn tank, and the shock made my knees buckle.

Jasper's left hand weaved through the back of my hair to keep me from turning into a puddle while pulling my head back so he could look at me. His right hand gripped my upper arm, squeezing it painfully.

I had proverbially knocked the shit out of him. A weight of dread like nothing I ever experienced sat itself inside my chest. He was overwhelmingly shocked, and if I could have vomited, I would have.

The gasp alone was the confirmation. The lightning flashed close by and Jasper's eyes were ebony. They were wide with the knowledge.

My name left his lips in the lightest of conflicted whispers. "Bella,"

I darted my bad hand up to cover his lips with shaking fingers, while I glared at him and seethed in fury. I knew the question he wanted to ask, and I wasn't going to let him ask it nor was I going to answer it. I just needed the confirmation.

"Don't you say one word. Do you understand?"

He put his hand over mine but didn't answer me either way. His breaths were shaky, and he was trembling. When he let go of my arm and my hair I took a step back, and ran into the wall.

I was sure then, that the guilt I felt from him wasn't just because he had tried to bite me on my birthday, or because the Cullens left me. It was because he was withholding certain truths, and he didn't want to do it. But he felt more inclined to protect Peter.

I could understand it, but it didn't mean I didn't hate it or him to a degree.

He turned around to look out of the cave. I had knocked the wind out of him bad. There was just so much conflict I wasn't sure if maybe he was going to change his mind, or if it was because he didn't want to lie to me. Yet he had chosen to do so.

I wanted to throw all his faults in his face.

"I have another question."

"What?" He bit out, out loud.

"I'm bleeding." I left it at that. And I felt my own guilt, plus a little more of his own.

"I know," he said calmly.

"I've been bleeding a lot."

He sighed. "Three thousand, three hundred and forty six." His voice was closer, he had turned around.

I had no idea what that meant, or how it had any bearing on the conversation.

"What?" I whispered.

"Three thousand, three hundred, and eighty seven. That's how many times I've told myself now that I cannot tear into your goddamn throat and drain you dry. Believe me, Bella, the only thing that I want more is out there somewhere, but you're running a _real_ close third. And besides all that, I think I'm more adverse to killing you than I ever have been." He took a deep breath and let it out.

"Why is that?"

Was I a little of afraid of Jasper? Yes. Especially since he was keeping an accurate count for every time he thought about killing me. But he was angry, and afraid. So was I, but not scared enough to run away from him. I wouldn't make it.

"You know why. I could never take away what he loves. He's more than just a brother to me, Bella. He's..he's the only one that's ever lived. I've wronged him in so many goddamn ways and I'm not about to do it again," he whispered vehemently.

Jasper stepped up right in front of me, against me. I felt a little threatened, and I didn't know if it was him trying to intimidate me or if it was because he was so close.

His lips were at my ear. "What are you going to do? How do you _know_?" He grounded out quickly, and he was desperate.

"It's none of your goddamn business. You have all kept the truth from me. Until now, you and Alice have stayed away. That says a lot as to why you care so _inexplicably_." I paused and swallowed back a lump of blood tainted mucus. "Fuck all of you."

I didn't know what I was going to do. The betrayal cut so deep that even Jasper wasn't going to escape it. I'm sure he could feel it. I needed more answers, I needed to hear it come out of Peter's mouth. They could make no excuses for him. They weren't watching my back, they were watching his!

At that moment, all I was was angry and hateful for those that were 'living'. I left Charlotte and myself out of the blame game.

I wanted to kill him! I wanted to claw and scratch his eyes out for whatever he had seen! I wanted to break his goddamn heart with the knowledge that I now had and look at him to tell him, 'Look! Look what your dead wife had to do because you never had faith in me like I've always had in you!

The breath coming from Jasper did not comfort me any longer, but the anger I felt coming from him could in no way surpass my own. He said nothing. How could he, when I probably hit everything right on the mark?

"Let's just do this, Jasper Hale. Maybe we'll live and you'll be able to give him a heads up."

"Don't let your immaturity influence your thoughts about me in this fuckin' mess, Bella, and if you call me Jasper Hale one more time I'll rip your goddamn tongue out. My name is Whitlock. I gave up 'Hale' for _you,_" he whispered with unleashed ferocity.

It made him just that much more frightening.

He decided to let me feel it.

There was simply no words for the indescribable amount of pulsating terror he sent through me. Gone was the gift to relieve the pain, gone was the gift that filled me with calm, when I unknowingly been fighting it off in the first place. I was so consumed with terror, I was frozen in fear. All it would take is one good whack and I would shatter like glass.

I said nothing else. I wanted to know what he meant, but I had a feeling that if I asked, he _would_ rip my tongue out.

I wouldn't be able to demand the truth.

I was still against the wall with not one ounce of personal space. His breath washed over my cheek, all I could do was whimper as my entire frame started to tremble.

I had to wonder if he decided to give up counting. That contained fury vibrated through his chest.

In the next second, he was stepping back and turning around. The blaze from the crash was almost gone. I could barely make him out.

"Seth, come here," Jasper said firmly, and loud enough for Seth to hear.

Jasper walked towards the ledge. I took one step forward. My legs were shaking so badly, I nearly fell to the ground. I couldn't move anymore.

He was under a large amount of duress. His silhouette was squeezing his hands into fists, and pulling the hair away from his face.

In that moment, I hated him.

His fist drew back and drove _into_ the side of the cave. Thunder crashed inside the space, popping my ears. Grit filled the air and rock shattered and he managed to break off a sizable chunk of that wall, and my hands flew up to cover up the yelp that was coming up.

The hole was filled up with the furry mass that was Seth as he jumped from the other side, sliding a little because he had to get a running jump. He padded over to Jasper in two easy steps, a groan leaving his throat.

Jasper spoke out loud. Out into the darkness. "Everything is fine." But his voice quivered.

Seth was just a gargantuan shadow that bristled along the edges. He towered over Jasper even with his head hung down. Tall like a horse and built with nothing but muscle and fur.

I could feel his eyes on me, before his head turned to look at Jasper. They were both right in front of each other, his snout just inches away from Jasper's face. Neither one of them looked even remotely offended or threatened by the other.

Jasper was still breathing heavily, but gaining control over his faculties. He reached up to Seth, and ran his hand through the thick hackles on his neck.

He was petting him.

I stumbled a little closer as Jasper's eyes drilled into Seth's and he whispered to him. He was gripping some of the flesh on the side of Seth's neck.

"We're going up to the top. Downstream about a half a mile where the canyon ends there's a gully that leads to the ridge. Wait until Bella and I leave first and then _run_, Seth. No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you run as fast as you can. Don't stop for fuckin' _nothing_. Get your ass up there and come in on the ridge line. Got it?"

Seth nosed him, and quietly barked before he groaned and turned his head. He was looking at me, but I could not see his eyes.

Seth wouldn't be able to climb up the wall. Not unless he phased back. And Jasper didn't want him on that wall, in no shape or form.

Jasper darted back to me turning his back to me as he spoke.

"Come on, let's go," he said quietly.

I kept looking at Seth, though now he was just a blur like everything else. The tears were pooling and welling over.

Jasper bent down a little and reached back for my left hand. He took it by the wrist and pulled me towards his back, pulling my arm underneath his. I wrapped my legs around him, and he grabbed my right arm to wrap it around his neck as he lifted me up.

His skin was ice on my hands. I could feel the texture of raised scars on his shoulder, and a whole lot of them.

There was no backing out. My ears were filled with the sound of my heart. I was already dizzy, I was already in agony, but none of it compared to the fear running through my veins.

Seth groaned and whined quietly as Jasper walked towards the edge, but he paused right beside Seth.

"He's worried about you," Jasper mumbled, his head hanging down. At some point he had moved his left arm to cover my hand with his.

Seth's large snout just inches away from my face. I could see one of his canines poking out of his lip. His whiskers brushed the fabric of Jasper's shirt on my arm, and stale breath caressed my face.

"I'm sorry," I said, to the one black globe that seemed to pass concern. Concern over me, when all I was was concerned and worried over him. There were not enough words to relay how proud I was of Seth, of how wonderful and tragic it was that he was there.

It was all I could say.

Seth just stared at me for a moment, before his head moved just a fraction to the left. I felt his slimy, wet, and warm tongue lick from the bottom of my jaw and slowly up the left side of my face. I could not hold back a little laugh, though the action made my face hurt.

Jasper turned his head and grinned just a little before he took three steps, and we were airborne. All the while he was talking to the darkness.

"Peter? Alice? Give us a little space."

There wasn't even enough time to reflect on the instant momentum, the raw energy that effortlessly built up in his legs. There was enough time however to feel the shock of him coming to a complete stop, as he coiled up and his hands became claws to grab on to the side of the canyon wall. It was jostling, and I felt the collision in my spine.

I squeezed my legs around him tighter. I already had him in a choke hold. The wind roaring down the canyon whipped my hair, and fine sand was hitting my face.

A deep voice bellowed darkness, and it growled as it spoke. The anger inside it, the gusto of it as it carried on the wind and echoed off the canyon walls was enough to rattle me.

Peter wasn't by the cave. He was on the Mexico side further up, and he was somewhere low. It sounded like he was down on the bottom.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing!?"

Jasper did not answer.

There were three things that happened almost simultaneously.

"Perfect."

It was just a whisper across Jasper's lips. I wasn't even sure if I had heard him right.

I heard a dull thump. Something huge, something big slid onto the sandbar below us. Seth took off on a dead run, down the sandbar.

Seth would listen to Jasper.

But the one that mattered the most, was the pull on my heart. It wasn't pulling so much, because _he_ was on the move. Jasper had not moved. We were still in the same position as he scanned the wall above and to the side of him. It was a ploy, though I did not know it at the time.

I hadn't felt Jasper tense. I hadn't paid attention to the way he readied himself, expecting he would draw Peter out of his hiding place.

Which was _exactly_ what Jasper wanted.

There was only three little words spoken before Jasper let go of the cliff with his left hand and foot. He flung us about so he could get a good shot in, just as Peter crashed into the wall directly beside us and scrambled for footing. While the wall wasn't sheer, it was solid. It would have taken him a quarter of a second to get himself settled, but Jasper was quicker.

I could have touched him, because he was _that_ close. I could see nothing but the bulk of him. Everything just happened too quickly.

"Keep Alice safe!" Jasper seethed in a whisper.

There was so much to see, but there was nothing! It was dark, but I knew he was there, and then he was gone.

Jasper kicked Peter hard enough to send him flying down to the river below.

I screamed and I let go of him, legs and all. It was just so reflex to because I did it out of confusion, and pain. Not only my own, but Peter's too.

Jasper had kicked him away, but he could see no other choice. And I didn't get far.

With a grunt and a turn, he had grabbed my forearm, as I was falling. I was dangling in the air eighty some feet from the river below. The bones in my right arm felt as if they were going to snap.

"Run, Seth! Get the hell out of here!" Jasper yelled.

"Oh, _God_! What did you _do_!?"

"I gave them another reason to come out! Put your goddamn legs around me!" His whispering growl a command I couldn't disobey. He had pulled me up easily, holding onto the cliff with just his left hand; putting my arm back around his neck.

Why, why did he hurt him like that?!

I did what he demanded. It took a second to pull my legs up and get them around him. Every bone, every fiber of my being protested against what I was doing.

His grip on my arm was tight, he wasn't going to let go. I started to anchor the other arm underneath his and he only let go of my arm to yank the other around his shoulder.

What I didn't know, was Jasper was sending out confusing signals to the enemy in the walls up the river. What I didn't know, was that _they_ were coming out of their hiding spots because Jasper had kicked the ever living shit out of Peter and he had crashed down below. He had stunned him.

He was down, he was confused, and he was vulnerable. Even he didn't know what was happening. Until that son of a bitch bit him below the chest and tried to remove a chunk out of him.

Peter would not have agreed to Jasper taking a risk that could have cost not just my life, but Jasper's as well. And he certainly wouldn't have agreed to the method he would use in stalling Maria, long enough for him and Alice to take care of two of the problems. I probably wouldn't have either, had I known what he had planned in the midst of our heated and heartfelt conversation.

It was a working of the odds, and if the odds were even, it would draw her out, because Jasper split us up even more.

Even Carlos was going to come out and play.

The two that Maria had with her would go after Peter and Alice, who knew exactly where she needed to be when Miguel and Portia attacked.

They would be no match. Between the both of them, Jasper had taught them almost everything he knew. It would take Alice a whole minute to gather the shreds of flesh to burn when it came time. Because she was pissed, and Portia had tried to chew off her right foot.

That brand of panic and hysteria Peter had thought would be forever embossed on his psyche when he saw me running for the cliff, was nothing close to the one that would be embedded whenever he would think about seeing Maria come after me and Jasper. Maria only needed a second or two. It would take him nearly a whole minute to put the one named Miguel down.

Alice would leave him before that. She knew how it would turn out.

Lured her out, we did. Seth was no where in sight. Seth had run away.

For a minute or two, they would forget all about him. We all would.

Except for Jasper.

Maria most likely knew she was sending Miguel and Portia to their deaths, but it gave her the time to take care of her unfinished business. Her choices were simple, run or follow. She wouldn't deny herself the opportunity, and she knew Carlos was still lurking about.

They would not come out unscathed, and there would be hell to pay. Jasper wasn't even safe from Alice.


	25. Chapter 24 Reckoning the Final Goodbye

Chapter 24. Reckoning the Final Goodbye

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***S*E*T*H***

Jasper was a sly and coy son of a bitch, but I put him up there with the likes of angels. With the likes of Peter. The adversity and the challenges he faced throughout existence honed him in a way, however, that made the bloodsucker the worst kind of angel. He knew exactly how to use the temptation and greed in one to _his_ advantage.

In a way, it made him his own worst enemy.

What he wanted, he got; and most of the time, Jasper didn't have to manipulate shit. Besides, it was just as beneficial using the power of suggestion to influence someone into making a decision as it was to fuck with someone's actual feelings. Because in the end, that 'someone' could only blame himself.

Or herself.

Jasper was a thought provoking motherfucker.

The control that both Peter and Jasper exhibited over gifts they were given was awe-inspiring. It was the same for Alice.

But she was still going to kick her husband's ass and do it again a week later, if she felt the need. In fact, I was pretty sure we _all_ wanted to do it at one point. Even Jasper would acknowledge the error of his ways, but he'd do it when he was alone. When no one could feel it. It would rip a person apart.

He took an extreme risk. It messed him up, but he didn't let it show.

Jasper had something to prove, and it wasn't just Peter he needed to make things right with. He realized however that he just might be ruining any ground he made with Peter. He didn't want much, he just wanted _his_ family. He had one, but after one terrible mistake and just the tiniest glimpse of the future, Alice and Jasper had to say goodbye.

Jasper wouldn't fail to protect Bella, but he would tell me he prayed he wouldn't, either. It was the first time he prayed in a long time. He never thought he had a right.

Bella was just as important to him as Peter was, but she wouldn't see it that way. Placidity generally ruled over her. Different experiences had taught her focus and tenacity. Jasper would tell me that she was just like him, once upon a time. But she was more charismatic, because she was a woman.

Bella wasn't just a magnet to vampires, she appealed to everyone. Of course he liked her. Even loved her, to a point.

She hated his guts.

They _had_ made a choice not to interfere. They _had_ kept the truth from Bella. And they stayed away from her for Peter. She was entitled to her bitterness, even her hatred. If he had to take the brunt of it, that was just fine.

Jasper's bottom line was no one ever treated Bella good enough. He was right, of course. But sometimes Bella let people walk all over her, especially the men in her life. She was too kind, too forgiving, and generally a calm soul. She was a woman who didn't know how to let go unless someone forced her to.

Jasper would make up for all the ways he wronged Bella, a hundred fold. But he had to coax Bella and Peter to get what we all wanted. Even Bella understood that, it had ultimately been _her_ choice. Still, the risk had been a dangerous one; and he had never been so frightened in his entire existence.

It was difficult for him to say goodbye, and _that_ was understandable. But it was okay. He knew there would come a day when it would all come together for him. A day it would come together for all of us.

Alice told him it would.

**********Prelude End************

It was difficult to ignore that which I was running away from, but not difficult at all to know that he needed me up there on top of the canyon. The wind was on my side pushing me as I ran downstream; leaving a very distraught Bella in the distance.

"_No matter what you see, no matter what you hear, you run as fast as you can."_

And I saw quite a bit, before and after I followed his directions. But while I was running down the sandbar, I turned to look. And that had given me pause.

After we had killed the four bloodsuckers, Peter had moved up the canyon on the Mexico side about two hundred yards. He used the wall; every crevice, divot, and shadow within it to advance upstream.

He stayed low, close to the river. His knees and arms went to the sides instead of underneath when he bent them to move. He moved slow and silently while sometimes coiling himself up, to blend in with the shadows. Peter wasn't a gigantic motherfucker, but he was still a class of brawn. It took patience and focus to move like that.

One foot forward and then a pause. Another foot forward and then a pause. I didn't need to look that hard to know he wasn't even breathing. Grace, power, agility, he had it all.

He was a prowler. A cold blooded, fucking prowler. By the time the hair raised on the back of your neck because he was above you or beside you, you'd be dying.

When he finally stopped, he was twenty yards away from a sharp bend in the canyon. He hung on the side of the wall and he did not move until Jasper called me out of my position on the sandbar. And at that, he had only turned his head.

Alice had climbed up the wall, and had taken position thirty feet above the cave. She had been on a small outcropping of rock where she stayed crouched down. She was looking for Carlos, and she was looking for the future.

I had been on top of the sandbar, watching everyone. Watching Bella and Jasper.

It was like being in one of those Hallmark Christmas movies, like looking through the window as loved ones reunited while it snowed on me. Except my snow was sand and grit that the wind blew in from the desert; and the chestnuts roasting over an open fire were dead vampires.

Alice had gathered driftwood and set the fires for the dead, before she climbed up the wall.

It was obvious that Jasper had given Bella the lowdown on what happened back in the desert with Debbie and I. It was all fine and dandy. It was empowering and bittersweet to see how it was all coming together for her. The tears had never stopped, but they were tears of relief. They had been trapped inside a nice little bubble of security, where Jasper could whisper truths to her and ease her pain. And her eyes spoke her thoughts when she would look at me.

_Why are you here? _

There was nothing I longed for more then to tell her that it was alright. That she didn't need to look at me and ever worry about a thing. Her eyes however scared the living hell out of me, because there was death in them. One had to wonder if it was indeed sneaking up on Bella, or maybe someone up above was looking over her after all.

Every little word, every little touch of comfort Jasper gave her seemed to give her eyes just a little more spark of life.

And boy, did she spark. What looked like the fucked up Walton Family Christmas Reunion turned into the Clash of the Titans almost within the blink of an eye. The Cracken and Perseus were going to get it on, and _not_ in a good way.

The Cracken being Bella, because she was sporting ugly. And Jasper actually looked like he wanted to fly _away_ from her on a horse with wings.

Bitterness, sympathy, tenderness, and hostility. It had all been in her and in a vampire who at one point looked like he just noticed someone had taken a gigantic shit on his boots.

They spoke in whispers none of us could hear, but two of us could _see_. Granted, Alice was _really_ seeing it.

It was easy to see that Bella wanted to fight the world and run away from it all at the same time. Her lips quivered, and her body shook. She had blood in her eyes, and that blood brightened with the tears the more furious she became.

Bella was the same, yet she had changed. She was a slight shade of pain and crazy sitting next to one nasty motherfucker who looked like he couldn't decide if he wanted to slap her or eat her.

I saw him looking at her throat.

My eyes were only for the both of them.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on. All I knew was she looked like she was she looked like glass about to shatter from whatever argument ensued after Jasper assisted Bella to her feet. All the tenderness just seemed to fall away with one whisper in his ear.

I was on my way into that cave a second before he called for me. No matter what, no matter what she was bitter and hateful for, Bella was still my sister. And nobody was going to back her up against the wall and get in her face like that.

The fear of God was already in her eyes, and she was already beaten to hell; on the inside and the outside. Her skin was smeared with blood and dirt, and the shit was in her hair too. Plus she had a skinned up leg that probably could have used a few stitches. She had also soiled her shorts, and she was freezing her ass off.

Her face was ruined. It was tragic in a way.

All I wanted was to just get her back to Peter so he could put her back together again. Something told me that no matter how fucked in the head he was, he'd take care of her before he'd ever take care of himself.

There was no way however, I couldn't _not_ do as Jasper asked. It was in his eyes. It was doing something because even I had thought we were stuck in a stalemate. That bitch was either going to cut and run or attack when she had a well thought out plan.

We all wanted her dead. Bella had willingly climbed onto his back, and I knew it was just as much her decision to move as it was his.

"_What the fuck are you doing!?"_

I could not count the seconds it took for Peter to reach them, because there wasn't any. I had to look back. It was the worst thing I could have done, because it stopped me in my tracks.

A crash into the cliff, and a kick to the side of his gut. Jasper had been ready for him. Bella let go of Jasper like she had been kicked herself, but Jasper had been ready for it.

"Run, Seth! Get the hell out of here!" I couldn't move. She had been dangling in the fucking air eighty some feet off the ground.

"Oh, _God_! What did you _do_?!"

They came around the bend, slithering down the goddamn walls, just as Jasper had her pulled up and secured on his backside. Three of them.

He shot up the wall with Bella clinging to him for dear life, leaving a wake of devastation in his path as he tore into the rock with his hands.

The fire had already been lit up my ass. Everything was instantly clear. 'Get the hell out of here' all of a sudden meant 'get the hell up _there_.'

I ran. I could feel nothing but panic. It surged inside my heart and down into my legs weighing them down. I prayed for a catharsis that could take the feeling away so I could make my legs move like they hadn't before.

Her cry followed me on the wind. It would be Peter's catharsis, too. In this place, in the gloom of the night with no civilization in the distance, even dying with your friends and loved ones would be a goddamn tragedy.

I could run a mile in seventeen seconds as a wolf on flat land, but I could not run a third of that mile through sodden sand and dirt that stuck to the pads on my feet in the same amount of time. I could not run it when the canyon narrowed, yet the walls of entrapment descended.

The river swallowed the riverbanks, and I jumped into the middle of that bitch. But she didn't impend my speed. Her current pushed me forward.

It was a count in my head. A count in my head that I could focus on to move and move fast. To keep the momentum and the power focused in my legs and in my steps when I hit the bank along the river, and the mouth of the canyon.

_Nine one thousand, ten one thousand, eleven thousand..._

The walls ended. I climbed out of the water, up a flat bank, and into a thicket. Full with desert grass, sagebrush, and blooming succulents.

And I was going to give Jasper plenty of shit later, if we fucking managed to live at all. Because his 'gully' was actually a ravine, whittled out from time and torrent rainfall. With steep edges and small hills, that ascended to the top of the canyon.

A ravine! A ravine with hills made of fine sand and desert dirt that wasn't packed in and wasn't solid! It gave way under my feet and sucked my legs in! It was like stepping into a motherfucking mud hole! How the fuck was I supposed get there when I couldn't even fucking run?

No one wanted to die here! No one wanted to die in a place where the buzzards circled over your head in the heat of the day waiting for their chance to pick at a sinew in your foot because the coyotes were busy eating your guts; or the scorpions were crawling inside your mouth!

_Fifteen thousand, sixteen thousand, seventeen thousand..._

All it took was one good whiff of the air blowing down at me. All it took was one burst of thought that said, 'Hey, try the other side, you stupid fucker.'

I was stuck on the outer edge of the ravine, close to the river. The other side gradually built up to be part of the ridge. The ridge behind the crash site.

When I jumped the small divide, I met nothing but ground that didn't give away so much. Ground that my feet did not sink into.

_Twenty two thousand, twenty three thousand, twenty four thousand..._

I was going to bite Jasper on his goddamn ass!

I couldn't fail. Jasper was probably well aware of just how fast I could run. And I would not question whether or not I made the right decision to leave Peter and Alice to fend off the two that were going to impede their time. I would not question it because Peter himself would want me there with Bella.

The air was filled with the new smell of rotten. Fresh scents, blowing on the wind which was already saturated with the scent of sweet death. All I wanted to do was rip into them and tear them to shreds.

I would learn later that Maria smelled like pomegranates; and Carlos smelled like sage. They all smelled fucking rotten to me.

It was like the worst fucking nightmare of my entire life. It was just another problem we didn't need. It was just another threat that had obviously stuck around and only came out when we were put down, or we were weakened.

Maria, and Carlos.

Had we been put down?

I jumped off a crest of the mesa to the top of the canyon. I went down on my chest when my legs gave out, but there was no pain. I could feel nothing but desire and need to tear those smells to shreds and burn the pieces so it could never permeate the air again. I ran in on the rim of the canyon, and I ran like I hadn't run before.

The glow from the fire lit up the sky over the Comanche pits of Boquillas. It was the light in the darkness that you could never reach in your dreams. But I wasn't dreaming. I was alive, and I was running for all our lives.

_Thirty one thousand, thirty two thousand, thirty three thousand..._

I would not notice the lightning to the south. I would not see the torrent rain behind it. The orange glow was closer. I would leap jagged rock, and the adrenaline would keep my legs strong. And I would hope to kill those smells blowing in my face.

I would hear words on the wind I could not understand being screeched out by a bitch that had no right to walk the face of the earth. I would hear the weakened voice of a woman who had been wronged in so many ways, it was understandable she had some less than stellar thoughts about the man she loved, and those that at had forsaken her.

I would hear the shrill keen of a death below, echoing down the canyon as it traveled on the wind.

I was all teeth, and the fury at the crash site rendered me unseen, and unheard. I would see that son of a bitch six seconds before he lunged at Jasper and Bella. He would not see me, or hear me. The wind was on my side and my feet were barely touching the ground.

_I_ was the ghost. And I didn't have to count anymore.

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

***B*E*L*L*A***

That moment, the moment Jasper kicked Peter off the canyon wall, nothing could have been more horrifying or heartbreaking. He had hurt him, when he was already hurt and confused.

Nobody deserved to be kicked when you were already down, and it just made it worse because it was Jasper that had done it.

Jasper shot up the wall like a rocket, tearing into the rock with hands that were claws. I kept my eyes closed. There was no way to express how much hate I had for him in that moment, so I just cried.

My stomach twisted and bile rose in my throat. My heart was about to explode right along with my head. It seemed to be the story of my life. One moment I was falling up, the next moment I was falling sideways. I kept my eyes closed, until amber light invaded the darkness behind my lids.

Jasper whipped around and pushed my legs down roughly, tearing my arms away from his neck. I fell to the ground in a heap, bruising my tail bone. My leg landed on a rock that was superheated. I scrambled off of it, but it seared the skin on the outer portion of my right thigh.

Too many things happened at once.

The light made my head throb behind my eyes. My thigh tingled and burned painfully. Flying up the canyon wall left me dizzy, and I had to fight for focus. Passing out wasn't an option.

We were back on top of the canyon, in the midst of the devastation that had carved a partial crater into the land.

Twisted and tortured metal lay scattered about; still burning hot. Steam made the air thicker as the wind blew it in my face. Part of the plane's tail was still intact, but her guts were smoldering away. The tail was back by the wall of the ridge. Walls that seemed to surrounded us. There was no way out.

Brush on the rim of the canyon was lit with fire, and the wood pile that they used to light their fires was already turning to ash.

We were up by the pit that the newborns had stayed. Twenty five feet away from the ledge. One of her rocks had burned my leg, but the pit itself had been blasted away.

To the left and down, was the pit I had a share in with Charlotte. It had survived. It had a history. It was burning anew, like someone had stacked it with dry and dead wood.

But it was all sideline. No sooner than Jasper had forcibly removed me from his back, was the ultimate enemy attacking him. Maria came over the ledge with her claws out.

Unleashed frenzy and viciousness filled the air, snarls and short growls rattled my ears. They were frightening noises that only made me focus on staying awake even more. For just a moment the fight was on. And it was all a blur.

Tangled bodies, snaps, and a punch that only sent her back a few feet. Maria was on him again.

She went for his legs, diving at Jasper to knock him to the ground. He fell forward, twisting around to land on his back as he reached and grabbed her leg, because she was coming for me.

All she needed to do was touch me once, and that would be the end. I felt it coming. The terror as I looked into her eyes—as she reached for my neck—was a surge through my head. It was all I could feel. It was all I could think. I was going to die.

I screamed.

It would be quick. Maybe even painless. There would be no time to say goodbye.

It wouldn't happen.

Jasper grabbed her by her hair and threw her back as hard as he could. She twisted rapidly and landed in a crouch on the rim of the canyon. Her foot broke off a piece of the ledge, and she almost fell off of it.

Jasper was standing up in front of me in an instant, but he was slammed down into the earth face first, from behind. Carlos must have been waiting behind us, on the ridge.

"Jasper!"

Carlos only pissed Jasper off, to the extreme. Carlos was straddling him, snarling as he tried to get a hold of Jasper's head. But Jasper twisted his upper body underneath him. He snagged Carlos' head instead with his right hand, pulling him down as he lifted his own body up. I made it to my feet, and backed away.

Jasper bit into and took a chunk the size of a lemon out of the side of Carlos' neck. Jasper twisted himself again, grabbing Carlos' head and slamming it into the ground.

He was on his feet an instant later, backing up and running into me, knocking me back to the ground.

Jasper's voice was thick with venom and laced with anger as he yelled. "Carlos! You fucking piece of.."

But Maria was on him again, cutting him off and biting into Jasper's right shoulder. Carlos was on him again too, but they were all fluid in the air. They moved so fast I couldn't make out who was who. Jasper's skin blended with Maria's pink shirt, and Carlos' green windbreaker.

It was like an unreal nightmare, so terrifying it cloaked all you senses and paralyzed you. I couldn't tear my eyes away, when I so desperately wanted to. They had him!

I scrambled back to my feet, just as Maria was thrown or kicked back towards the ledge of the canyon again. A banshee shriek later, Carlos was knocked back with a punch that sounded like a wreaking ball colliding with a concrete wall. He was away from Maria, standing off to the left about fifteen feet to the left of Jasper, who backed up towards me.

Carlos was favoring his right side, and his hand flew up to feel the wound in his neck. Part of his torso was misshapen; like someone had taken a bite out of him, or had hit him so hard his rib cage was now a body cavity.

Jasper reached back and grabbed a hold of my shirt. He pulled me against his backside, his arm wrapping awkwardly around my waist and back.

He was breathing heavily. His nostrils flared, and from his partial profile I could tell he was smiling at them in a daring way. His shoulder was oozing, and he shuddered in pain.

Maria's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her goddamn head. There was so much fury and pain in them, she didn't even look human anymore. She looked like a monster, and the screeching hiss she let out made her monster even more so. Part of her face was misshapen. Her left, lower jaw.

She straightened in an instant. Carlos took a step back, but he lowered himself into a position he could spring from. Jasper shifted, lifting his shoulders and standing tense.

I would see the overlapping crescent marks on his back. Every single one was a testament to those he had killed, and I would think of him as a monster too.

Why!? Why did he hurt Peter like that!? Where was he?! What was going on!? All he brought to Peter's life was pain, and we were about to die!

And then it was all so clear. Peter, Alice, and Seth were nowhere to be seen. Alice and Peter were fighting two vampires below, and Seth was on his way. Jasper had split us up even more, and he used confusion to bring out the enemy. He fabricated our own, to draw her out.

He had done _exactly_ what I asked him to do. Peter would have never agreed to it.

_What have I done?_ Maybe all _I_ brought to everyone's life was pain. Seth was never going to make it on time, and I didn't want him anywhere near Maria or Carlos to begin with. What had I done?

Maria took a step forward, practically foaming at the mouth.

Jasper backed up a step. My feet got twisted, but his right arm kept me steady enough. I latched on him so I didn't fall.

The air was turbulent, the wind was cold. It was filled with the promise of violence, and thick with ferocity. One way or the other, it was going to end.

Jasper vibrated and growled low in his chest. His nostrils flared as he smiled at her, but there was so much disdain and hatred coming out of him, it was a wonder that neither Maria, Carlos, or I crumbled away with just feeling it.

Maria's eyes were only for Jasper. Disbelief, anger, pain, she was feeling it all. Her arms flew as she screeched at him. She wanted to lash out, and she wanted to kill. But she was also afraid. Her left jaw was actually cracked, and venom dripped from the wound.

"¡Vóitelas! ¡zócalo! ¿Cómo pudiste? Está protegiendo a esa chica! ¡Está protegiendo que los _mascota_! ¡Te di todo!" She growled out the last part of whatever the fuck she said.

"Ella _es_ una niña. Mija," Jasper answered calmly, but he was fuming, too. His eyes staying on her. His hand fell away from my back, and I stepped away.

Maria looked at Jasper as if he were crazy, drawing her upper body back a little. I expected her to say 'What?'

But she didn't.

"¡Esa perra se va a morir, y tú también!" Her mouth twisted in a sneer.

"¡Vete al carajo, you bitch. Speak English, both of you."

Telling her to go fuck herself was about all I could do. I lived in the southwest. I picked up a few words, but they were talking so quickly I couldn't understand much. It just didn't come out as strong as I would have liked it to.

"I will _gut_ you, you little _puta_!" Carlos spat, and he stepped forward.

Jasper laughed, and took a step back. He yanked me forward by his shirt, and I stumbled while he pulled me in front of him. He wrapped his right arm tightly around my ribs.

"What are you.." I started. What the fuck was he doing? I struggled what little I could to get away, but he jerked me to a halt.

"Shut up," he said firmly, jerking me even harder.

And I did. I suddenly felt very lethargic, even though I was completely terrified and confused while my heart continued to shatter. For all I knew we were dying, and Peter was fighting for his life down below.

Jasper's free arm moved the hair away from my neck as he spoke to them.

"Go ahead and try, you both know you don't stand a chance in hell." He leaned down, and he kissed the right side of my neck, his eyes on both of them.

Some kind of surge knotted up in the pit of my belly as Jasper licked a path up the side of my throat. He shuddered against me, and he breathed out of his nose. Or maybe it was I that shuddered out against him.

Maria and Carlos were both unsettled, and Carlos sneered and bared his teeth. Maria was taken aback. Even she didn't know what he was doing, but she was also getting off on it. Her lip twitched, as if to smile. She was confused, mesmerized even.

When I told him to show me off, I didn't mean literally. All he did was make that bitch look hungry.

Jasper kissed the side of my jaw very lightly. His arm came away from my ribs. The fingers on his right hand trailed up my right arm, and he wrapped both hands around my biceps.

He was getting ready to move me.

Jasper looked directly at Maria.

"The only goddamn thing you ever did for me was turn me into a goddamn monster. This girl here, this woman? She's survived me before, and she'll survive me again. She'll survive _you_," he said evenly, growling in his chest.

A faint sound came out of the bottom of the canyon and blew on the wind. It was the shrill grind of strong teeth tearing through a body made of granite.

_No! No! No!_

Who was it!? _No! No! No! What have I done!?_

Through the tears, through the pain, I could only look at her. Maria was looking at Jasper as if he had committed or was committing the greatest sin. But she smiled when she heard that sound.

"Sounds like _someone_ didn't survive," Maria said as she stepped forward. She looked at us sort of smug like, but the anger and the pain was still there.

Jasper tensed even more, but only for a second. He sighed out taking a step back, taking me with him. We were being herded back against the wall of the ridge.

Lightning crashed far to the south, and thunder seemed to roll over the land. I could feel the rumble in my bones, and underneath my feet.

"It was one of yours, I taught them both almost everything I know. No woman could be my _mate_ and not know how to kill a cunt like you. You would never teach them _that_ much."

He sounded so sure, I wanted so much to believe he was right.

But those words would put this entire experience with him into retrospect at some point; if I lived. All because of the look in Maria's eyes. It could only be described as startled realization.

One would think Jasper would be a fool to use that which made him weak and put it on display for her. And he would be. But even if I was human, I was _not_ Jasper's greatest weakness, and Maria had always went for the weak spots. Always.

Until now.

Maria had forsaken the woman with Peter. Jasper's _mate. _

There was a vast difference from that which would make Jasper weak to that which would emotionally kill him, if anything were to happen to Alice. He could never live without her. His greatest weakness was down below in the dark, with mine. And the fact was, drinking my blood wouldn't weaken him at all, but taking my life would.

I was a human, and I belonged to Peter. We _were_ the perfect bait. Maria had failed to kill me, and for Maria, _Jasper_ had been the reason she failed. Of course her focus would be us.

The smugness in Maria's face faded away into complete rage. There was no way to escape her fury. Jasper had stalled her for as long as possible.

But time had still been on our side. To me, there was not much of it. To them, the seconds and every fraction of time were pieces of forever.

Maria crouched. I saw that jaw of hers open to growl or scream, but I never heard it. I tensed, expecting to feel death coming in the form of two pissed off vampires who had been tricked.

Carlos sprung from where he stood, hissing out as Jasper growled out loud and short. There wasn't even time to take a breath.

Jasper swept my feet right from underneath me, and threw me down on my left side. I hit so hard my teeth rattled and I bit my tongue. Something popped inside my shoulder, or maybe it was my neck. Agony like I've never felt shot into both, and even felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest.

Out of nowhere, amidst the screams and the growls, a loud, viscous, snapping bark announced the arrival of something awful. The next thing I knew Jasper crashed down on top of me.

Another tortured shrill would sound from below, but it would go unheard. Terror, fear, and pain encapsulated my very being, and it felt like death for all. The noise in the chaos was nothing short of being heart stopping.

But the threat hadn't touched us. It had touched _them._

Carlos was on the ground, two feet away from Jasper and I. It took me a moment to figure out just what it was I was seeing, because when I looked up, all I could see was the colors of the desert.

The firelight only made him look larger as shadows danced and rippled across his coat.

Seth. Seth had Carlos' right arm in his teeth. He was dragging and pulling Carlos away from Jasper and I. Right in front of Maria.

He was viciously shaking Carlos back and forth, while crunching into right arm. The sound of Carlos' scream was a horror all in it's own. There was a savageness in Seth's eyes unlike anything I had ever seen. He almost looked rabid; or at the least, extremely pissed off.

His appearance rattled us all, even Jasper to a point. I glanced into his eyes as he put his hands underneath my arms to quickly lift me up, and in his eyes I saw fear. Carlos had gotten so close that Seth had inadvertently knocked him to the ground, on my legs.

One glance away from the savagery Seth was inflicting on Carlos and I realized what had stopped Maria's attack.

It was a couple of things, really.

Agony ripped through my shoulder and everywhere else, but heat surged inside me and filled my heart. Seeing your former best friend just kind of had that effect.

Alice was twenty feet away on Maria's right, crouched down and ready to attack. She was extremely disheveled; very dirty and wet. Her jeans were ripped down the seam on her left leg, and something—or someone—had tried to bite her foot off. Venom oozed from the wound, but it didn't seem to debilitate her in any way. Her eyes were as black as the night. The tank top she was wearing was untucking itself from the waist of her jeans.

Alice kind of looked like shit. It was a goddamn sin.

And Seth's arrival had shocked Maria. She had pulled up short while she watched her lover being dragged off to the side. She was speechless, and she wasn't making a sound.

Jasper slid me behind him as I clung to him. I was still coherent, but threatening to pass out. The pain in my head pulsed with the agony in my shoulder, and I couldn't help crying out.

Alice was maybe fifteen feet away, and off to Maria's right, by the ledge. Maria was seething as she looked at her. Alice smiled and showed her her teeth, biting down exaggeratedly. She was taunting her.

Maria's eyes were for nothing but Alice. She hissed at her and coiled to attack.

Carlos was being lifted and vigorously tossed around by a vicious Seth. His front paws dug into the earth, and with one hard yank he bit Carlos' arm off, just above the elbow.

Seth flung his head to the left to toss the arm away. It landed on a smoldering bush that sparked back to life; birthing a little more light into the approaching darkness.

Carlos screamed like a banshee, but he managed to get a leg around to deliver a swift kick to Seth's chest. Seth yelped out in pain, and he was sent flying off about thirty feet, smashing into the wall of the ridge.

I screamed.

Maria did not spring at Alice. She had taken her eyes off her, to watch her lover lose his arm. Jasper was still in front of me, but he was conflicted. He had to protect me, but he wanted to strike Maria.

Where in God's name was Peter!? Where was he! Where was he!

It took me a second or two to listen to what my heart was telling me. Pandemonium and terror kind of ruled over everything.

I cradled my arm against my chest and took a step back. I was shaking so badly though it was a wonder I didn't go back down. The pain was everywhere, and I didn't think my heart would be able to take much more.

Carlos was no idiot. He knew they were outnumbered; sticking around would prove to be fatal. He lost an arm. They had lost the advantage.

He was quicker getting back to his feet, of course. There was no looking back. Seth's collision with the wall only seemed to fuel the ferocity that encapsulated him, but the blow to his chest had stunned him. He lagged somewhat as he chased after Carlos.

Carlos made his jump, screaming over the canyon. One moment he was there, and the next he was gone. But Seth was on his tail, and he had every intention of following him.

"Seth!" Jasper yelled his name and Seth slid to a halt, right at the rim of the canyon.

"Stay here." It was a firm command from Jasper, whose eyes were only for a breathless and furious Maria. And she was trying to figure out just what the fuck to do. Alice was no longer approaching her, and Maria's murderous eyes stayed on Seth as she bared her teeth.

Seth turned around. He trotted a few feet away from the ledge, before he slowed and started to close in on Maria, growling low in his throat. His eyes were pins, his short snout scrunching up to show her his teeth. Alice shifted back towards the ledge, leaning forward into a crouch.

Seth was as big and as tall as a horse. His spine was sloped in his stance, and the fur on his back stood up even more. His abdomen was pulled in taut. He was crouched down somewhat, his legs poised to attack. His ears flattened against his head, and points of light in those black balls only highlighted the viciousness within him. His eyes were only for Maria.

Seth's neck was pure muscle, thick and strong. He lowered his head, his shoulder blades twitched. His hackles raised even more, as he stalked forward. He moved slow, and deliberate like.

The low, constant growl coming from Seth only got louder. His doggy lips pulled back and up away from his teeth, his short snout scrunching up even more so he could show her all of them. He was salivating, it was dripping to the earth from the corners of his flews and from his canines. Canines that were almost as long as Maria's face. They were frighteningly opalescent in the light.

Then all of a sudden Seth just halted and whined a little. He sat down, almost casual like.

It grew very quiet, yet the wind still howled. Malevolence was thick in the breeze, and it seemed to grow thicker with every passing second.

He was coming. It was in my heart, and it was in the air. It was going to be wonderful and awful all at the same time.

Jasper was no longer growling, or posed to strike. He had relaxed into a more casual stance, and he was _smiling_ at Maria.

The pain just suddenly went away. Maybe it was Jasper. Maybe it was me. Maybe even my body didn't want to miss this for the world.

Maria was seething. Her eyes darting back and forth between the three that had her triangulated. She was mad with desire to kill and so very furious. Still, the bitch stood there and weighed her options. She was still looking for some kind of victory.

Her eyes were meant mostly for Seth and Alice. Even then Seth was no threat to her, but she kept him in her peripheral as Jasper shifted a little more to the right. He only took one step, smiling at her even more.

Maria made the decision, she was going to run. She only had one way out, but it would be futile. She started slowly backing up to the rim of the canyon with her teeth bared and her head maniacally twitching between Alice, Jasper, and Seth. She was fading out of the light, fading away into the darkness.

There couldn't have been a more profound feeling of relief to be felt the moment I saw Peter. I had been in a thick and heady deluge of pain, terror, turmoil, and chaos for what had felt like a lifetime, but it was the pull to his heart that had kept me afloat.

It was his hands that I saw first. The only reason I looked for them was because the pull on my heart, the pull to my perpetual happiness was just _there. _In between the darkness and the light, a foot just below the ledge behind Maria.

His fingertips were pushed down into the rock. Long and thick fingers, with strikingly raised sinews in the flesh of his hands; and large knuckles. His hands had always treated me with the greatest respect. They loved my body. The man they were attached to loved _me_. They were rough when I wanted them to be, and tender when I wordlessly needed to just feel them.

Hands that could kill. Hands that have killed, and they weren't done killing yet.

Peter lifted himself up with deliberated slowness and silence. Maria was still backing up towards ledge. She was still seething, and looking at Jasper.

Who was still smiling at Maria.

Peter's head was down, and his body was coiled as he brought his feet up. He was wearing one of his black, long sleeved shirts with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He had on his black jeans, and his brown hikers. When his feet lightly found the ground, he un-tucked his head and torso, and slowly stood up.

He was on that edge of light and dark, in more ways than one. Two feet away from her, and she never even heard him. Not until he shifted his stance, to stand ready for when she realized it. And he _wanted_ her to realize it. He towered over Maria, behind her.

Peter was wearing his stocking cap.

His clothes were caked in dirt, and his face was dirty too. His shirt was torn, on the left side just below his chest. He had been bitten, and the wound oozed. There was even a small tear in his jeans, right on his right hip.

The lies, the deceit, in that moment, none of it mattered. I loved _that_ man. I stepped towards the pull and the very thing that I needed, without even really realizing it. Before I even really looked at _him_.

Jasper's arm in my peripheral was telling me to hold my ground; to stay back.

A burst of calm soothed the need to touch him, because surely if I moved another step forward, I would fall into a million pieces when I realized just what I was looking at.

My heart stopped. When it shocked back to life, every agonizing beat was one of agony.

Something was wrong his face. Something was terribly wrong! Someone had stuck a red hot poker into his eyes! His lower and upper lids were branded and tinted red. His eyes alone were black balls filled with nothing but hatred and pain. I was looking at the man in the field! I was looking at a man whose heart had shattered into a million pieces!

But there were some stark differences. He was _strong_.

Peter never asked for anything of this. This was not _all_ his fault! It was all of ours!

What had Charlotte done to him?!

There was nothing but hatred and unsurpassed fury seeping out of him. The man before me wasn't starving for anything but vengeance, and his eyes were only for Maria. The man before me was incapable of smiling lightheartedly.

He was biting down. His jaw was tight, and his jowls had nothing on hers. His fit his face. His liked to be nipped at; and licked. They stood out even more, when he would smile.

His lips were frowning and sneering all at the same time. This didn't just effect him in a bad way, this had killed him!

It might not have killed him, but it certainly had ripped his heart out. There was nothing but devastation in his eyes.

And I still wanted to kill him. But I also wanted to ease his pain. I wanted to tell him that everything was going to be alright, and I wanted to yell and scream at him at the top of my lungs and glue myself to him all at the same time.

I wasn't crazy, I was just sanely homicidal and in love.

I wanted it to always be like that. I never wanted to be one of those people that would say they just 'loved' their mate; or spouse, or their other half. I wanted to be one of those people that could always say they were 'in love.' I had that with Peter.

I could _never_ leave him. I would fight to keep him. I would give my _life_ to protect him.

Lightning struck behind him, off in the distance. We were in the eye of the storm, and she was sticking around after all.

There was so much death and heinousness in his eyes, it was impossible to believe he could love so strong, so unequivocally. Charlotte marked him in a way that he would no longer be able to look in the mirror and not remember all of it. He would never be able to forget.

I hated her for it.

It was that one little shift though, that made Maria aware. The realization was in her eyes, and she stop breathing instantly. He was towering behind her in strength, and his shoulders were tense. Everything about his body was tense.

The relief, the wonderful feeling that filled me to see him standing behind her like that, was strange in a way. The last thing I should have been was relieved, because all hell was about to break loose. Maria was about to die; we were all hurting, and my battle with the betrayal and for the truth hadn't even begun.

But for a moment, the air thinned and the wind eased, and I could breathe deep.

Maria stood there boiling. The rage inside Peter's eyes made me take a step back. It was going to be bad.

Across the canyon and in the distance came an inhuman noise. A furious and mournful roar, that broke the silence.

Carlos.

"Your _mate_ just left you to die, Maria. But don't worry, he'll be joining you in hell soon enough." Jasper told her gently. "Go ahead, Peter. Put her..Seth!"

Jasper didn't get to finish his sentence, nor could Peter get his hands on her before she took off to go _through_ the threat that she considered the weakest. And at that moment he was, because he wasn't ready for it. But any attempt at escape was just futile.

Panic and horror surged inside me once again.

Maria took off to the left slamming into Seth full bore, before Peter got a hold of her hair.

"No! No!"

Maria had rammed into Seth so hard, he tumbled backwards. The sickening pop that came from his body could be heard over the deep yelp that left his throat.

Maria twisted around in a violent corkscrew to attack Peter. The lines of their bodies were blurred. The fingers of his right hand dug into the back of her scalp, and her jaw with his left as he lifted her off the ground.

"Jasper, get her!"

I lost what little grip I had on rationality. All it took was to see Maria hurt Seth and put her hands on the love of my life.

The love of _my_ _life_.

"Peter!"

"Bella, no!"

I moved without thinking towards Peter and Seth, but I didn't make it two steps. Jasper grabbed me and picked me up. He darted us back towards the wall of the ridge, away from the fight and by the burning tail end of the plane. I cursed him.

Jasper planted me against the wall, turning to stand in front of Alice and I protectively. Alice had wrapped her arms around my waist. Her words were indistinct as she tried to console me.

An inhuman shriek sounded inside Maria's throat. She started to thrash about. She struck Peter over and over in the side of the head. Peter threw her like she weighed no more than a sack of laundry towards the wall of the ridge.

While Peter was throwing Maria, Seth was struggling his way back to all fours, scrambling for footing and coherency. He was favoring his right front leg, crying and whining in pain as he tried to find some balance.

Maria twisted before she collided with the ridge wall, landing five yards away and two yards up. She was grappling for footing to climb, and she found some. But Peter was right behind her, jumping and clambering up the wall with so much rage it would be easy to catch her.

He was a vampire, but had he have been human, there would have been nothing but ice running through his veins.

Peter grabbed Maria by the waist of her jeans to pitch her off the wall. But she wheeled on him and kicked him in the gut. He didn't let go, and they fell over twenty five feet as she went for his neck. They crashed down on the ground, Peter on his back.

"Peter! Jasper! Jasper, help him!"

But Jasper wouldn't. He was too busy acting like a goddamn cheerleader and protecting me while a very angry and ferocious Seth towered over both Peter and Maria. Seth was instantly there, snarling and barking loud and short barks as he snapped at Maria's head.

"He's doing just _fine_. You put her down, Peter! Put her down!"

She was an animal. She did need to be put down.

Peter got a hand around her throat and he squeezed as he pushed her away. She clawed at his arm, her fingers digging into his flesh. He kicked her in the gut and sent her flying back against the ridge wall.

While Maria was in the process of becoming one with the wall, I was on my way down. The blood running through my veins was cold; and my body could no longer ignore the pain like I wanted to. My head hammered behind my eyes. My entire chest ached and burned. My legs gave out. Both Alice and Jasper caught me as I fell. I was against the wall of the ridge, the tail blocking the wind somewhat.

Jasper straddled my legs and stayed crouched. Once he placed his hands on the sides of my face and neck, the pain alleviated somewhat; and I was able to focus again.

Maria didn't have time to react or defend herself. Peter was up and had her by the neck as soon as she crashed into the wall. They were fifteen feet away; she was dangling in the air and baring her teeth. Peter slammed her against the wall so hard there was a splitting noise coming from the rock underneath her. Then he did it again. Bits of rock fell to the ground.

She was trying to remove his hand with both of hers. She sneered and hissed out whatever remaining breath she had in her lungs. Peter slammed her in the wall again, his hand moving somewhat so he could grasp her jaw. He pinned her with one arm against the rock, and he got right in her face. Her legs stopped kicking, but she growled deep in her chest.

Peter spat in her face. It slid down her cheek and onto her chest.

His face was twisting in fury every capable way. His fingers were embedding into the flesh of her cheek, and her jaw. Venom seeped along his fingertips and glittered in the firelight. He was going to squeeze her face until it crumbled to dust.

He twisted Maria's head to the right violently.

"Look at her," Peter spoke firmly. His voice cracked in the air; and at what little sense of control I had.

She looked down at me with nothing but pure hatred, but I could see the fear in her eyes. He turned her head back violently to look at him. Instantaneously he drove his fist into her face. It sounded like a gun going off.

Then he did it again, just a little harder. He twisted her head back to the right.

"My God," Alice whispered beside me.

"Look at her _now._"

Maria's nose was gone. It was still crumbling away from her face when he turned her head. Her right eye was crushed inside her head, along with part of her cheek. They were ulcerous wounds; that seeped venom as bits and pieces of her face fell to the earth.

And then I realized what he was doing. She smashed my face, and he was eviscerating hers.

_My God._

She might have been a woman, but she deserved everything she got.

Peter twisted her face back to look at Maria, and he smiled in the worst way possible.

Satisfied with his work, I suppose, but he wasn't done.

Maria was starting to flail against the wall with all the fight she had. Her high pitched cries and roars were eardrum splitting. She kicked at him repeatedly; but he held strong.

Peter let her down so she could touch the ground, and kicked her right knee hard enough to break it in a way that she wouldn't be able to use it. Then he did the same to the left. Only it bent back in a way no knee should.

He struck like a cobra, his razor teeth biting into the flesh on the left side of her neck as he twisted her head to the side. He bit out a chunk, and spat it out in her face as he let go of her neck. She dropped to the ground, her mingled cry of rage and pain echoed through the air.

The squelching sound of her knees splintering should have made me sick, but it didn't.

Peter breathed heavily out of his nose. Venom dripped from his lips, and down his chin. His face twisted in-between a smile and a grimace. I looked away as he crouched down over her.

Seth was pacing a few yards behind Peter, watching. He was limping badly, sometimes lifting his front leg completely up and using only the three that were still good.

Jasper was staring at Peter and Maria with a very severe look on his face, but it was his eyes that alleviated the hysteria. In his eyes I saw bittersweet victory. I saw such a profound feeling of relief, there was no way not to feel it.

My nerves tingled, and my heart felt lighter. Maria had 'touched' us all in different ways; and when she touched you she left her mark. But maybe Jasper's scars were the deepest.

Maria's legs still flailed just as wildly as her arms. Peter was crouched down over her left leg but he pinned her with his knee as he stretch his left arm out to grabbed her by the throat. He sighed long and deep through his nose. His lips were tight, yet they twisted in a sneer and a smile. Maria's hands flew up to his arm to try and beat away the crushing grip he was applying to her throat; her eyes lit with nothing but black and cold fire.

I expected him to snap and crush her neck to the point her head would just roll off. But he had a knack for surprising me.

Peter drew his right arm back and punched her in the chest. He punched _through_ it. She bucked, and a dull cry left her throat.

When he pulled his hand out, he pulled out a mottled, slick, gray, mass of atrophied nothingness.

He pulled out her heart.

He rested his elbow on his knee, and he held up her heart to her face. Maria stared at it blankly. She knew death was coming. Or maybe she was already dead. How could anyone really live without their heart? She already looked lifeless. She had given up.

He pinned Maria with his eyes.

"Your heart for Charlotte's. I get to keep mine after all," he stated thickly.

He got to keep it, but it was raw, and scarred.

A sob the size of a fist left my throat. Jasper's cool hand palmed my cheek, but my eyes stayed on Peter. Seth limped and hopped up to stand directly behind Peter. He leaned his head down directly over Peter's shoulder, and growled at Maria.

Peter stared at Maria with nothing but hatred. Seth nudged the side of Peter's head with his snout. Peter turned his head to look at him. Some kind of unspoken communication passed between the two, and Peter opened his hand for Seth.

Seth took that ugly, mottled mass into his mouth; and flung it on a smoking piece of metal that was laying next to a patch of brush. It sparked to life; the flame deep violet with orange tips that whipped in the wind.

It was Maria that broke the momentary silence. Of course it was her. No one had a goddamn thing to say to her before her life was snuffed out permanently. What was said was said, and what was done was done.

But just like a bitch, she had to get the last word in.

"I will see you all in hell." Venom in her mouth made the words sound garbled, and the threat weak.

And I cursed God for giving a cunt like her such a beautiful dialect, because every word she had ever spoken belonged to the devil's tongue.

"No, you won't, you _bitch_. We're all going to live forever. Try and keep your hands to yourself on the way down. Just accept it."

She needed to keep her hands off my mother's pretty dress. And it was out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying, but I was a bitch that like to have the last word too.

Peter told me that, and he was right.

I could feel all their eyes on me for a moment, but hers was the only _one_ I looked into.

Peter put his fingers inside the wound on her neck, and wove his hand through the hair on her scalp. He twisted and cracked her head off. It only took him a second.

Jasper stood up. Peter stood up instantly and pitched her head into the fire still burning her heart.

Maria was gone. Finished. Dead. On her way to hell. Her body was racked with spasms and her arms flew around looking for that which was lost. Seth sprung and landed on her body, barking as he bit into her. He would tear the rest of her apart and burn her.

But it wasn't over. And I was looking at man who had walked right through hell on earth. I looked at him and I knew, he would never be the same ever again.

Nor would I.

Jasper walked towards Peter as he turned around. And though he was on his way to me, he obviously couldn't just let Jasper get away with what he had done.

A kick to the gut deserved a punch. Or two.

I could almost feel it build up inside Peter, before he decided to just go ahead and release it. I had to give Jasper credit, because he walked right into it, and he took it.

Jasper had it coming, and it was best to just get it out of the way.

Peter's right fist connected with Jasper's jaw. Jasper flew back about ten feet, and he didn't even try to twist out of it. He took the punch with a grunt, and he took the fall. He landed on his ass, sliding in the dirt. Alice yelped beside me, but she didn't leave me.

Peter was on him again, grabbing him by the neck and slamming his fist into Jasper's face once more. He let him fall to the ground, and he did not hit him again.

When he turned and looked into my eyes and his face fell, I knew I was done for.

"Bella." My name came out as a sob.

Fifteen feet was what had separated us, and the man I knew that could kill with practically a flick of his finger, who could clamber up rock walls with ease, couldn't walk it without his legs giving out. He landed in a puddle right on my legs, and crawled the rest of the way up.

"Oh, _God_."

He snared his arms around my back; and I laid his head against my chest. Every part of my body protested, but I needed it just as much as he had to have it.

We were still alive, and the relief was powerful. Breathing was just about impossible.

And there was no greater feeling I had ever felt, feeling his skin, feeling his heart next to mine. My heart beat strong inside my chest; and his smile flashed before my eyes.

He was the key to my happiness.

Every molecule in my body tingled by just touching his skin. He was cold, but he made my blood boil. In more ways than one.

I was holding the man that caught me when I fell off a slide when I was a girl. I was holding the man that had carried me out of the forest the day Edward Cullen broke my heart.

It was sort of funny how I could now recognize his arms. His hands ran all over me, touching every part of me they could. It was almost as if he were desperate to feel and to realize that I was still there. Still alive.

I was holding the man who_ was_ in the water that day at First Beach when Victoria was killed. I truly believed it.

I was holding the man that just saved my life again. He crashed a plane, and he killed Maria.

How many times did he save my life?

I was holding the man who was clinging to me like I was _his_ life preserver. And the words had more meaning than one.

I was holding the man who always knew what was the right thing to say, because he knew _me_. I was holding the man who probably had years to get used to the idea of _us_.

I was holding the man who had lied and deceived his way right into my heart in record breaking time. Just to get what he wanted.

Me.

Still, I wanted and to rip _his_ fucking heart out. Then I wanted to shove it back into his chest just so I could rip it out again. I was beginning to realize I probably could.

But that was _exactly_ what Charlotte's death and Charlotte herself had done to him.

The lies, the betrayal, the blatant disrespect? It was a dagger that pierced my skin and stabbed at my heart. But his greatest fear was losing me, and that certainly put everything into perspective.

There was a reason for everything. There was a reason Peter, Alice, and Jasper kept the truth from me, and I needed to hear them all.

Peter was a child himself, in the eyes of God. Charlotte might have given him 'me', but a gift from an angel was a gift from God. What lengths did he go to? What had he done?

Was there any way I could see past the lies and see the miracle of such a thing?

I couldn't just put all the blame on Peter. I couldn't just put the blame on Charlotte, either. Not even she could force the decisions we had made. We were _all_ to blame.

I had let him slide by without telling me the truth. There had always been something he had been hiding from me, from the beginning of our relationship. If I would have pushed hard enough, we might not have went through this mess in the first place.

I didn't push him, because I was afraid it would be too much. I was afraid I would lose him, and that I would think differently of him. _I_ was to blame.

Someone was saying my name. It might have been minutes or hours that had past, I really didn't know. At some point I lost a little of the coherency and the consciousness I was clinging onto.

"Bella!? Bella, look at me!"

It was Peter. I opened my eyes to see him looking into mine. They were liquid pools of black oil; and I could see myself inside them. His face was drawn in a perpetual look of worry.

Everyone was talking at once.

"Peter,"

"Peter, you're hurting her," Jasper said quietly, and a little firmly. He was still sitting where he fell, but he moved to get up as he played with his jaw. It had only been seconds since Peter landed in my arms.

"You just sit there for a minute, Jasper Whitlock, or I'll knock you back on your ass myself," Alice hissed out, glaring at him. She was still beside me.

"What, it worked didn't it? It was her idea! What the fuck are you so pissed for? Don't tell me you didn't know," Jasper said more than a little aggravated.

I couldn't feel much pain anymore, but I felt incredibly loopy. It was like someone had hooked me up with some morphine. Which was really okay.

"Alice, what's wrong with her?" It was Peter, and his eyes were hardening in alarm.

Peter was sliding off of me, wrapping his arm around me to pull me into his lap and cradle me in his right arm. I winced and cried out as my shoulder came into contact with his chest. He palmed my cheek with his hand, and I couldn't help shuddering out. I was cold already. I felt Alice's fingers brush by my chin, and she tore Jasper's shirt at the neck.

"She's in shock, but she'll be fine once I get her out of here. Her clavicle is broken."

"I'm fine. I'm okay. I just feel really out of it," I told him.

Peter looked at Alice and spoke to her with hostility. "You knew what he was going to do and you didn't tell me?" Peter looked back down at me, frowning worriedly.

I looked at what was moving in my peripheral. Seth was limping and hopping his way over to Jasper. He sat down beside him. He lowered his head and sneered at Jasper, exposing his teeth and growled at him. Jasper put a hand up on him and pushed his head away. Seth just did it again.

"Don't be mad. It worked. Is Seth okay?" I asked. I lifted my right hand up and palmed Peter's cheek and shushed him. I felt the skin on his eye lids. It was red and rough. He was scarred.

"Seth's fine. His shoulder is just dislocated again. He's okay," Peter told me shakily as Alice answered his question.

"Yes, I did. But not until it was too late. It _was_ Bella's idea, Jasper just...helped." Alice told Peter gently.

She turned her eyes on Jasper. "And _you. _You _know_ why I'm pissed, you overbearing son of a bitch. Care to run off at the _tongue_ about that?"

"What is she talking about?" Peter asked him firmly. He was playing a tennis match with his head. Looking at Jasper and Alice, but mostly looking at me. The fingertips from his left hand were lightly brushing over my face, and over my cracked lips.

Jasper looked at me, before he looked back at Peter. "She's talking about nothing where you're concerned. It's between Bella and I. If she wants to tell you, that's up to her."

Jasper looked at Alice hard, and it was a look I could understand. It had shut the fuck up written all over it. Even she realized her mistake. That conversation would just lead to another one, one that was going to need be had. Alice changed the subject quickly, but Peter was looking between Jasper and I, aware that something was going on.

Peter's face contorted in pain. "Goddamn it, Bella. You're in so much trouble, it ain't funny."

"Yeah, well if I'm in trouble, you're in deep fucking shit, you lying son of a bitch."

Alice interrupted, and there was an edge to her voice. Peter just seemed to caught up in my welfare to even care what I meant. He was almost frantic as he searched me over and touched everything that had been damaged.

"Seth, go ahead and let him get up. Peter, you need to say goodbye to Bella," Alice said, pausing. She looked at me with wide and worried eyes.

"She'll be safe, I promise you." She murmured.

She should have just punched a hole through to the center of his chest. And mine.

It wasn't over. Carlos. Carlos had gotten away.

"No, no! You can't leave! Not now," I cried. Peter's face fell, and it twisted in indecisiveness, sadness, and anger. But I figured out right away why he would have to leave me.

"Bella, they can get him. If they leave now, they can catch him and kill him before dawn in Torreón. He's running east to throw off his scent," Alice told me gently as she brushed my hair back.

She was looking at me with understanding, and there was promise in her eyes.

"Goddamn it, I'm not say goodbye. I'm not doing it," Peter grounded out thickly while shaking his head.

And I didn't want him to. But I could see the conflict in him. He wanted to go after him, but he was too worried about me. His arm was shaky on my backside. He was trembling. There was tears inside his eyes.

I knew I wasn't going to die. I didn't go through all this bullshit to die now. But _God_, I just got him back. It wasn't fair!

"Peter, you _have_ to. Do you want to be looking over your shoulder for the rest of forever? Or over Bella's? Do it now while I can see him. If you leave now, you're going to get him. Bella is going to be _fine_." Alice told him gently, but there was exasperation and intensity with it.

A pang to the head. I felt a pang in my head not once, but twice. A knock at the door so to speak, and I looked at Jasper. Somehow I knew it was him.

He was looking at me very cautiously. Both of them were. But Alice seemed to be pleading. I suddenly understood.

Carlos had to be killed no matter what. He had helped kill Charlotte and he was just as responsible as Maria had been. He very well could drop off the face of the earth, or he very well could create a few newborns and seek vengeance for Maria's death. He had to die.

Alice had seen everything that happened in that cave, and no one would be holding back anything anymore. They couldn't. If I begged Peter to stay, he would. If he left, I could get all the answers I needed, and I could confront him with the truth when he returned.

I had no desire to send him off after Carlos worrying anymore than he would be, and I would worry enough. Nothing changed the fact that he loved me, and that he would do anything for me. But asking him for the truth would surely break him.

Plus he looked lost, scared, and so very furious. I would not hurt him anymore at that point because he had already suffered enough. I would not send him away on a bad note. I would not hold him back when he could go and murder the son of a bitch while Alice could still see him.

One moment I wanted to kill him, and the next I wanted to try to piece him back together. Maybe I was just going to do what I needed to do because I didn't have it in me to break his heart anymore than it had already been broken.

Some people make excuses for the ones they love. I was one of those people.

I was weak. I loved him.

Jasper was still staring at me as he got up. He turned to Seth and wordlessly walked forward, wrapping his arms around Seth's neck. Seth laid his head over Jasper's shoulder and Jasper buried his face inside the fur at Seth's neck. His left hand sunk down in the fur by Seth's shoulder joint and he felt around. There was a sickening pop and Seth whined loudly, before he licked the side of Jasper's head.

"Knock it off," Jasper told him quietly as he pulled back.

I was still witnessing miracles.

"You said 'they'. Jasper is going?" I asked Alice.

Jasper turned towards me and both Alice and Jasper answered at the same time. "Of course."

Still, I was torn. I knew he needed to go, but I wanted him to stay. I didn't want him anywhere near Carlos.

"Alice?"

"They'll be _fine_. Do you think I'd let Jasper go if I wasn't sure?" Alice asked me, emotion thickened her words. She tried to smile through her own worry, but I could see that she was.

"We'll just head south. We'll run right into him. Carlos doesn't stand a chance, Bella."

Jasper was standing by my feet, with Seth beside him. Jasper was looking down at me with severity.

He could give it up already, I wasn't going to say anything. Not just yet.

My shoulder even protested as I lifted my good hand up. I palmed Peter's cheek. "Alice is right. You have to go. If you don't do it now, you'll just want to go after him later. Just get it over with. You know you want to."

He started shaking his head exaggeratedly and a sob bubbled out of his throat. "Bella, no."

"Yes," I told him with a hiss. "I'll be fine. I've been through much worse. You can go to a market on the way back. Bring me home something nice. Bring me Carlos' nuts in a blown glass jar. He touched me, you know. Don't let him get away with that. Don't let him get away with any of it."

I knew that would affect him, if none of the other pain Carlos brought to Peter's life didn't. And I was right.

Peter's face twisted as he looked down at my body. He was so beside himself it was amazing he was keeping himself as together as he was. "Did he hurt you?"

_No more than you did._

"No more than Jasper did. But he didn't mean to. Don't be mad at him and don't hit him anymore. He did what he had to do. We both did."

Peter actually smiled a little before he frowned. "I gave up on you. I thought you were dead," he whispered as he searched my eyes.

It was an admission I could relate with. I nodded at him.

"I gave up too," I had to pause to swallow. "I thought I lost you. And Seth and Debbie."

Peter's eyes were pools of black liquid. _Oh, God_. "Deb's going to be okay. You know that, right? Garrett's at home with her. You'll see her when you get home." He told me thickly nodding his head a little.

"Jasper told me," I told him, crying. I didn't want him to leave me. I wanted to kiss him! I wanted to go to sleep! I wanted to wake up and know that this had all been just a bad dream.

But even if I woke up, I'd still see the truth behind the lies.

My love for him was something that would never end. But I had to find a way to deal with the betrayal I felt. The only way I could do that was to take it out on him. But I was going to have to wait.

His face was incredibly close. All I had to do was lift my head up a little and I'd taste his lips. All I had to do was squeeze my right hand into a fist and I could knock him in the side of his head.

Sensing the better half of my need, he touched his forehead to mine while angling his nose as not to touch the bad half of my face. He _took_ my lips with his, and kill my desire to lash out.

So many kisses with him had been the kiss I had waited for all my life. This one was no different.

Something wet hit my cheek, and my legs. It was starting to rain. Thick drops, that almost stung as they hit my skin. I was cold.

Peter pulled back, sobbing. "You jumped off the canyon. You tried to kill yourself."

It was growing darker, but when I looked into his eyes I could see them searching mine for an answer.

And how could I explain it to him? How could I explain that I wasn't jumping to my death when I decided to make that jump, I was jumping for our lives. I wasn't ready to tell him. I wasn't going to, though every part of me wanted to.

"Yes." It was all I could say.

"Why?"

_Goddamn_ him.

"Because Maria wanted to kill me in front of you. I couldn't let her do that. I couldn't let her put you through that again. I'm sorry."

_Sorry I had to lie to you like you have lied to me._

Peter searched my eyes. I had to wonder if he could see through it. I had to wonder if Charlotte had given him what she had given me. A good old, heads up. But the truth was, I had thought about it before Maria knocked me into unconsciousness, where I dreamed the dream of a lifetime.

His breath washed over my face as he breathed out. "You think that taking your life makes you look weak to me. It doesn't. It wouldn't have. You're the strongest person I know, Isabella Swan. It's why I love you."

Of course he would see it like that.

He shifted me carefully so he could hunch over me some. The rain was really starting to come down. Seth hobbled forward and took Alice's spot to block out the blowing wind and the rain as much as he could. I hadn't even known she had left. But as quick as she was gone, she was back, carrying a backpack.

Jasper was squatted down beside Peter, and Alice was sitting on her knees by my feet. The rain quickly turned into a downpour. Peter bowed over me even more as he pulled back to look at me, and to look up at the sky as lightning flashed nearby. But I could hardly see his face anymore. The fires had almost been smothered.

"I know you love me. You crashed your plane. How did you manage to fly in this weather?" I had to keep it as light as possible. I could feel it building up. He was getting ready to say goodbye.

He didn't answer me right away, he just kissed and nuzzled my face. I winced here and there, but there was no place I wanted to be other than in his arms.

"I told you, there's an art to flying. It's knowing how to throw yourself at the ground to hit the target." Peter said thickly.

"What was the target?"

"You were. But a goddamn crosswind threw me off course." Peter sobbed out.

Somewhere beside me Seth groaned.

"Well, it's good thing you suck as a pilot, I guess."

"Yeah."

"Peter, we have to go," Jasper said somewhat loudly over the torrent rain.

"Oh, God. Peter," I started to panic. Everyone started talking at once again.

"Say the words and I won't go," Peter said forcefully with emotion.

"They'll be fine, Bella. There won't be anything to worry about at all."

That was the stupidest thing I had ever heard.

"Four thousand, four hundred and ninety seven. That's how many times Alice has said something stupid. She's actually surpassed the amount that I've got going for you. I could make you a list sometime, of reasons why you should live. But I suppose that won't settle things between me and you," Jasper said out of the blue.

He and Alice couldn't be seen. I heard Alice hiss at him.

"You're right, it won't. But get cracking on that list, you asshole," I told him.

I was not happy with Jasper, for many reasons. But I could understand it was his way of apologizing. We were going to have to have a conversation some time; especially about the fact that even then, he was fucking with my system.

Ever so protective of Peter. I respected it, actually. I could understand why.

I turned my attention back to Peter instantly. I could still see the outline of his face, and feel his breath. He was wiping away the rain and the tears, his hands shaking. He was tense.

"No, you need to do this, you need to kill him. Just promise me. Promise me you won't do anything stupid and you'll come home immediately. Promise me you'll be safe."

He would promise me. He would say the words I so desperately needed to hear. He would leave me with the promise to tell me the truth, and he _would_ leave me.

***S*E*T*H***

I wanted beer, a bottle of Jack, and a bar of soap. I would share it all with Bella, because she needed a bath and a stiff drink, too.

Carlos' scent was all over me. His taste was rotten in my mouth. It was too sweet, and it torqued my ears.

I wanted to go home, and I wanted to tell Jake and the whole pack they could take their 'purpose' and shove it up right up their ass. Because their purpose would never be mine.

I would kill to protect my family, but I would never kill a bloodsucker that didn't deserve it. Peter, Jasper, and Alice, they didn't deserve it. I would never fight them. I would never harm them. I would protect them with my own life.

I wanted to put fresh flowers on my father's grave, where I could pray and hope that I made him proud. Because I did a good thing.

I wanted to strut my shit in front of the whole pack and tell them, 'Fuck all you assholes, I've done helped kill the baddest bitch around, and you won't ever be able to touch that.'

I might not have directly had anything to do with Maria's death, but I sure as fuck had a claim in helping to bring her down. I had the right to gloat. I had a severely fucked up shoulder to prove it. But Jasper was giving me a good dose of some high quality shit that was probably illegal in all fifty states.

This entire experience had changed me. It had changed us all.

It had already changed the two people that had my attention the most. They had Jasper and Alice's attention, too. It was what we were fighting for in the first place. Both Bella and Peter down by my side, and I was looking down right at both of them. It was dark, and she couldn't see.

Peter was fucked up. Even more so after Jasper and Bella's little stunt. It might have been Bella's idea, but Jasper took the brunt of it. And that was the thing about him I liked the most. He would put himself at the front of the line for someone he cared about. He knew Peter would go after him.

And if Peter had seen how close Carlos had gotten, he probably would have taken his head off instead of just laying into him with a couple of pussy punches. But their plan to draw her out had worked, and in the end, that was all that had mattered.

Of course, Alice had to go and ruin _everyone's_ fucking day by mentioning the name of the fucker that got away. All the relief that Bella had felt—that we all felt—was just gone.

Bella was fucked up. She was in shock. Her shoulder was broken and so was her face. Her heart was beating so strong and fast inside her chest, that you could see her shoulders jump slightly with every beat. Peter had her in his arms, holding her as carefully as possible as to not upset her shoulder. The rain was coming down in buckets, and the wind was relentless.

Tears rolled down her face. Peter wiped the tears and the rain away from her eyes, brushing his fingers lightly over her broken nose, and touching every part of her face. There was no way to express how torn up he was at the prospect of leaving her. It was the last thing in the world he wanted to do.

But there wasn't a doubt in my mind that he was going. He wasn't going to chance this shit from coming back to bite him in the ass again. And Carlos did touch his girl, more than she should have been touched.

Devastation and loss had settled inside both their eyes, we could all see it. We could all feel it. But Peter was soft for her. The cold, relentless son of a bitch's entire demeanor had changed within an instant after he ripped that cunt's heart out; and it was amazing thing to witness. It was as if someone drove a pick ax down into him, and broke the block of ice that had formed inside his chest, just hours ago.

Nearly all the light was gone, the rain and wind had smothered and doused all the fires. The only light for miles came from cinders inside the tail. The swan's body had been marked and burned. Her wing's were all that was left.

"No. You need to do this, you need to kill him. Just promise me. Promise me you won't do anything stupid and you'll come home immediately. Promise me you'll be safe," Bella demanded as she cried.

His face twisted again, in turmoil. He didn't want to leave her, but he would. "I promise I'll be safe. I'll have Jasper with me. I'll be home before you know it. Seth and Alice will take care of you. They'll take you home. You'll be safe," he told her, thickly.

But it looked and sounded like he was trying to convince himself. Even Bella picked up on that. She just kept nodding at him as she tried to steel herself and stop crying. She failed.

Bella was running the fingers from her good hand all over his face, and over his lips. He closed his eyes when she started to softly run her index finger over the eyelids on his left eye. He took her hand in his and he kissed her palm.

Alice was crying. She whispered into Jasper's ear the finer details of the future. The mission would be easy enough to find. Torreón was a home for Carlos and Maria. They would find him in the courtyard after he had just killed an old woman. They would drag him out of the church and further out into the desert. Peter would beat the ever living fuck out of him, and Jasper would kill him to put him out of his misery.

Peter would _not_ bring Carlos' testicles back in a jar.

A moment later, Bella was weeping softly as Peter nuzzled her face. Her good hand was balled up into a fist that she was pounding into the back of Peter's shoulder.

The rain was coming down in sheets. Peter looked like he was trying to turn himself into an unbreakable umbrella to get her out of the weather, but not wanting to move her at all. Moving her would mean he'd have to let go.

His right arm was around her back, keeping her shoulder pinned as he tried to bow over her, to keep her out of the rain.

A hand brushed the side of my abdomen, and then he squeezed my flesh a little. I moved in a little closer, until she was completely pushed into my side. Her skin was ice. Bella jumped a little, and cried out in pain before she said my name.

"Seth."

"Shhh, he's just keeping the rain off you."

"He's so _warm_." Her body started to shake as she wept anew.

"Yeah," Peter swallowed. "He is."

Jasper stood up with Alice. "Peter, we have to go."

He was looking down morosely at the two of them. The rain and the wind was beating them both in the face. Alice's eyes were filled with pity.

Bella turned her head to glare up and at where the voice came from. She couldn't see, and maybe Jasper could have given them another minute.

It wasn't just that, something nasty had happened between Jasper and Bella. Something that made the vamp feel shameful and defensive, and had made Bella resentful.

I hadn't missed one thing. Not one look exchanged. Something was going on between Jasper, Bella, and Alice.

Then it all just clicked. And I had no idea how I even failed to put two and two together.

"_She's gonna find out the truth, one way or the other. Even if I have to fuckin' tell her."_

Bella didn'tknow. Bella didn't _know_. But somehow, she did. Did Jasper fucking tell her? Did he tell her inside that cave?

I looked at Jasper. He didn't just have a knack for feeling shit, the fucker could almost read your mind. His eyes were filled with intensity, and it was just a little shake of the head and a twitch of the shoulders.

It explained everything. It explained the underlying bitterness that was indeed there, and Peter was so fucked up it was all doing a fly by right over his head.

Peter pulled somewhat away from her. Her mouth was agape and her eyes were desperate as she searched for his face. She sighed and steeled herself.

"Help me up."

He palmed her battered face in his hand, and just looked at her, desperate and lost. He let go of her face with his left hand and pulled his stocking cap off, and he put it on her head. He swallowed, and tried to smile.

Peter lifted them both to their feet, and she bit her lip to keep herself from crying out in pain. He did not let go of her, but she held her weight. He palmed her head with his free hand, and touched her forehead with his as he pushed her to lean into my shoulder. Bella wept, and she kept her right hand over his heart.

Peter was leaning down, kissing her lips languidly. She cried against his lips but tried to kiss him back fiercely.

There was something to be said about the way they were both trying to stay strong for the other, and both failing. Where as she was his greatest weakness, he was her greatest strength. You could flip flop the two, or you could leave them alone. You'd still have the best match there was.

A match made in heaven. It was some cheesy shit, but it was _true_.

"Peter," Jasper said his name, quietly.

Peter broke away from her lips to look at Jasper behind him to acknowledge him with irritated silence. He didn't want to leave her, it was all over his face in a sorrowful scowl. His eyes, still black globes of death, shimmered with emotion.

The rain was beating her in the face. He let go of her, and palmed her cheeks. He ran his fingers across her lips, and looked into her eyes.

"I have so much to tell you. So much to say," he whispered to her.

If she could see his face, she would have seen the intensity. She would have seen the fear starting to break through. But she could probably feel it. He was starting to shake.

She froze against him. She didn't know it, but she was staring right into his eyes. Or maybe she did know it. It was just too goddamn dark.

She sobbed and swallowed, and bit down. She wasn't able to keep her face from twisting, but she smiled at him. It was genuine.

"I know." She nodded. "I _know_. I have a lot to tell you, too," she whispered. "You come home and you tell me, okay? You..you come home to _me_."

Peter smiled at her, but the fear still showed. "I promise. I love you, Bella. I always have."

There was an air of reminiscence that settled on her face for just a moment, and her eyes became unfocused. They were still blood red where they should have been opaque and white, but fathomless just the same.

Her face fell, and all she looked then was sheer and utterly lost. She was shivering so badly she looked like she was about to crack apart.

"I love you too." It was just a whispered sob.

He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, and they both let their hands fall away from each other. Peter reached over her shoulder and ran his hand through the fur on my neck. He looked at me with nothing but devastation in his eyes, and on his face.

"Get her out of this. Please?"

He brushed a kiss across her lips, and stepped back.

In the next moment, he was gone, jumping over the canyon and not looking back. He wouldn't have been able to leave if he looked back.

Bella reacted to his departure. "Jasper!?"

Jasper hadn't left. He blurred over to her and palmed her cheek.

"I'll bring him home to you, I promise. We were here for you, too."

Bella nodded at him and broke down. Alice was directly behind him, and he released Bella's face to turn around and kiss her goodbye.

He was gone a second later.

Water and tears streamed down Bella's face, but the rain was letting up a little. She just stared straight ahead.

Alice walked up to stand in front of her. Bella was looking straight through her, utterly lost and heartbroken. She quit shaking.

"Bella?"

The pain finally took her, her legs giving out. Alice caught her before she could hit the ground.

**AN: Okay, so after this there is one more chapter and a heavy duty epilogue. Some of you who read this story before might remember a short piece of Peter's POV that I had published before I pulled the story, but that piece is now a part of the last chapter because it was/is mostly prelude material and just sits better with the last chapter. I will not lie, I have had so much difficulty with the last chapter and how I've wanted it to play out that in the past it had driven me to just give up on this because it has irritated the living hell out of me. Right now as it sits the chapter is 75 pages long with viable material but I estimate it will take another 20-30 pages to finally call it good. The epilogue..well, that's another heavy duty subject that I'm not going to worry about for the time being, I am just concerned with the finality of this story at this point in time. So time wise? I just don't know. I am hoping to get it done and posted within the next few weeks. It just depends on how it goes, it could even be days but I don't want to set a time frame. Will I get it done? Absolutely, positively, yes. I didn't re-post it just to leave it without the ending it deserves. **

**Also, while I do work on it, I am going to also attempt to re-post Colliding Meteors just so I can give myself a break from the fucked up craziness that is TOM while I'm writing. CM was partially re-edited so the chapters will probably go up slowly as I read and make edits. Thank you so much for your support, your understanding, and above all, your patience...even if you don't have any. The responses to these stories when they were posted and even the last couple of years post-pull have been overwhelming and I thank each and everyone of you, even if you decided you hated it 12 chapters in. **

**Also, just in case this story does disappear from this site, I now have a profile and TOM posting over on FictionPad if you care to follow or read there. CM will be posted there as well. Thank you again. Soon, I promise. **

**AN/N: By the way, for those of you who are confused with the preludes at the beginnings of these last few chapters, they give you an idea of the chapter themselves, but they also contain glimpses of the future. **


	26. Chapter 25 The Greatest Battle Part I

Chapter 25. The Greatest Battle Part I

Mute Swans

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***B*E*L*L*A***

I remember flying through the darkness and the rain. Bands of torrent rainfall whipped and stoned my skin, aggravating me more than hurting me. Soaked to the bone, I was cold and numb. Though I remember, coherency was an issue, and whatever coherency there was, it was short lived. I spent most of the time unconscious.

I came around again about the time we reached civilization. Rain hitting my eyes made them sting, and the pain inside my head and everywhere else was just so intense that all I wanted was to sleep. I had no idea where I was, how long it took to get there, and I didn't care. It was dark, cold, wet, and Peter was gone.

I was out again, the moment I thought about him.

The next time I came to, I was out of the rain. And though it was probably dim, it was like I was staring into the afternoon Sun. My vision was blurry. A needle or two went in my arm, cold fingers on my skin. The voices were indistinguishable. I didn't understand the words, and I didn't try to make sense out of anything.

I was out again by the time she started taking off my clothes. I remember her trying to comfort me, but I don't what for.

I would find out that Alice had carried me to the outskirts of Castolon, Texas. It was a short run—but according to Seth—a steep climb. Twenty five miles was all they had to travel, it took them about forty five minutes. Seth had been hurt many times over, and Alice had let him set the pace.

They ran over dense mesas and through small side-winding canyons to the hills of Castolon; where Alice partook in a little Grand Theft Auto at a campground, and broke into an urgent care clinic in town. Seth stayed with me to keep my body temperature from plummeting anymore than it already had.

Alice had stolen an old, blue, 1978 Dodge Van, with green shag carpet that was on the floor and the walls, tapestry curtains, and a green pull out couch. According to Seth, enough reefer had been smoked in the thing that you could sniff the walls and still get a contact high.

Alice had talked to Carlisle Cullen and played doctor with a broken left clavicle, a broken left hand, a ring finger, a crushed nose, a shattered right cheekbone, and a fractured frontal bone, above my right eye.

The brain bleed that should have killed me was put off by a miracle.

The mild side was a bruised back, a laceration and a burn on my right leg, whiplash, a bruised tit, and a fat lip. Scrapes, cuts, and bruises painted pictures on the rest of me. Shock and dehydration were just the side products produced from the ordeal.

There were no dreams, there were no angels to talk to, and there were no vampires rousing me awake. There was nothing. Just sleep. I had already dreamed enough. It was roughly a ten hour drive back home with Alice driving. I slept for eight of those hours.

Cool water dripping down my cheek woke me up. There was a melting ice pack resting on my face. It fell to the side when I tried to turn my head. I was on my back. My right eye was completely swelled shut, and sharp agony cracked inside my skull like lightning when my other eye opened to the daylight. What vision I had was blurred, at first.

I could hear fine. I knew we were in a car. I could hear the engine working very hard, and I could feel the bumps in the road on my back. It took some effort to focus.

Sunlight burned in through the curtains covering large windows in the back; and the colors of orange danced across the russet skin of Seth's shoulder. It was his right arm. He was on his back, laying right beside me and his legs were wide and bent every which way. He was asleep, and he was snoring. His arm was inside a sling, laying across his chest and ribs. He had a pair of denim shorts on.

I just laid there and looked at him. His mouth was lax, and he was sleeping very deeply.

They had drugged me, of that I was sure. There was an IV in my good arm. But drugs or not, my heart was floating inside my chest. And I almost had to wonder if it would float me right out of wherever the hell I was and to the south. To Peter.

I laid there and I thought about everything. Everything I had seen and heard, and even everything I had thought and done. And I thought about why.

When I would think about the time laying there next to Seth, I would wonder if I had in some way disconnected myself from all the things I loved; or if I only _felt_ disconnected because of everything had happened. But only to a point. I loved Peter, more than anything, but I had to wonder if I felt that way because I couldn't be the person I used to be anymore.

I couldn't be the person I wanted to _be_. Anyone else in their right mind wouldn't let those who had betrayed them so deeply get away with it without dealing with the consequences; or maybe anyone else would just walk away from it all, and all of them. But anyone else might have not necessarily experienced miracles and discoveries that could be written in scriptures or song.

The book of Bella and Peter. Both loved each other enough they would die for the other. They had faithful friends _and_ family and they were rich with life. They could communicate well with each other. Usually. But both disregarded each others' faith and trust in the other. Without faith and trust in each other, they were doomed.

But people can change. I could see that the fear in him led him to believe he had no choice. I could acknowledge the fact that I was a strong woman; but I had weak tendencies when it came to love and care for another. I had been lied to, but I had to acknowledge why.

And I had kept some truth from him, too. If I would have told him what happened in that bedroom that day, I completely believed he would have told me his truth.

Maybe.

Even when he told me he had so much to tell me, the ineffable fear inside him told me there was no way he couldn't. I was going to have to go after it, no matter what. After the truth.

God, had he been so worried that the truth would kill me? Or was the reality of the situation that the truth would kill him? Was he planning on holding out on me forever? So much had happened, and I had so many questions that needed answered, that I wouldn't know where to begin when he came home.

I would have all the answers I needed before then. And it wouldn't be just him that gave them to me.

But at the time, I didn't understand it. I didn't understand how he couldn't or wouldn't hold me accountable or resent me in some way. I knew it wasn't all my fault; it was all of ours.

It didn't matter. What was done, was done. I just needed to _believe_ that it didn't matter.

I loved Peter, no matter what he had done. I was alive, and living without him was an impossibility. Protecting him was all I wanted to do. I was also connected to him. And though he filled my heart, the feeling inside it was created by something almost inexplicable. By God, and by me.

But as I laid there next to Seth, and thought about what I had done with my life, my family, and those I had love or did love, I was ashamed because of the person I should have _been_. I was just going to do what I had to do for me, and for him too.

My slight shade of pain and crazy was still in effect. But love makes us crazy.

It wasn't until I heard a loud door slide did I realize the van had stopped. At some point, I had figured out it was a van. I turned my head towards the noise, but I only got so far because of my shoulder and my neck. A kaleidoscopic reflection of rainbows and prisms was cast on the ceiling and the wall in front of me, and it danced.

A blink later and she was looking down at me with eyes full of liquid amber, and a stoic face.

I blinked a few more times. Her hair was flat, and the front angled towards her face. She was still wearing the same clothes she was when I last saw her. Black tank top, black jeans. They were caked with dirt, splattered with venom, and probably even a little blood.

Sunlight filtered into the compartment and made it that much more brighter. It was painful to look at her. Her skin glimmered. _Her_ nose looked perfect. The rest of her was svelte and almost angelic, in a way.

She just stared at me, as I tried to stare at her.

This was my other problem. Her. Alice. There was no anger in me at all, and that frustrated me, because maybe I should have been glaring at her. Maybe I should have tried to yell at her. But all I wanted to do was just cry.

So I did.

Her face fell and she whispered as she checked the IV line and the bag of fluids feeding it somewhere above me. "God, this is going to _suck. _ Be quiet, okay? You'll wake up Seth," she whispered pointedly looking at him.

The bells. The bells in her voice. I realized in that moment I had missed them.

The amber in her eyes was liquid. I caught the shape of my head inside them before she reached somewhere above me to get some gauze and tape. She pulled a piece loose and used her teeth to tear it off.

That's when I realized I really couldn't talk that well. I tried to say 'okay', but nothing came out. My chest and back ached with just the effort to sob and cry. My throat wasn't that sore but it felt closed off, and my mouth was full of grit, like sandpaper. She propped her leg up and grabbed my right wrist, putting my arm on her leg.

She didn't breathe as she pulled off the tape holding my IV, and then the IV, putting that piece of gauze where the needle had pierced my skin. She taped it. She sort of rolled her eyes when she looked back at me and took a breath, looking a little perplexed. The amber in her eyes darkened just a little bit.

She just stared down at me as she put her hands on her hips. The concern was palpable.

"Okay, now for the hard part," she whispered. "You're shoulder is fucked up and it's going to fuck you up when I get you up. But we've got to get you up," she reasoned.

The look on her face told me it wasn't going to be pleasant at all. The look on her face told me it was going to hurt like hell.

"What time is it?" But near to nothing came out.

"Almost ten. Quit trying to talk," she said, and she looked hurt. "You can have some water but you need to get up first. And before you ask your next question, I'll tell you they're already on their way back. Carlos is dead."

It _was_ my next question. They were supposed to kill him around dawn, just like she had said. They were on their way home, and we hadn't even reached it yet. Carlos was dead.

Carlos was dead. It was over.

She just stared at me almost critically. I don't know what she saw. Maybe relief, maybe panic, maybe joy, maybe recognition.

Whatever she was thinking she shook off and she bent towards me as she spoke. "Grit your teeth. You gotta get up. You gotta try to pee."

I didn't _feel_ like I needed to pee. I felt like I needed a drink. She worked her arm underneath the left side of my back. My left arm was in a sling. My hand and my fingers were wrapped and splinted all the way up to my elbow.

And it passed inside my mind at that moment, what was still missing and would always be gone. My ring. My ring was gone along with my necklace. Maria had taken both and had probably been on her when Seth had ripped her apart. It was just something else to be frustrated and angry about. That bitch had nearly gotten way with everything.

The van had been relatively cool inside, because she was running the air. But the heat filtering in from outside was an indicator that it would be another hot and sultry day.

Bite down, I did. The pain involved in just getting up into a more upright position was excruciating. There wasn't a body part that didn't ache as she lifted me up, but she did do it quickly. With the epic headache of a lifetime came dizziness; and little light flashes of wavy lines, as microbes danced inside what eyesight I had. But Alice pulled me, and she pushed my pain tolerance by keeping me moving once I was sitting up. She pushed my legs over the side over the makeshift bed; and we both braced my good hand on the wall of the van.

I stood up, and she held on to me. We were both bent a little awkwardly as to not hit the roof. Alice, not so much. And Alice had kept talking. She kept me distracted from the pain while getting me up by answering every question inside my head and even those I would have eventually asked.

"It went fine. Peter and Jasper are both okay. They beat the shit out of him, ripped the fucker up, and burned him. They're still in Mexico, but they'll cross over in less than an hour. Seth's had both his shoulders dislocated, but he's fine. He passed out about four hours ago. I'll give you something for the pain when we get going again." she murmured.

I was standing on my own two legs, supporting my weight when she let me out of the bear hug she had me in. She kept a hand on my waist and on my good arm and pulled me forward to the doorway. My legs felt like jelly, yet they were sore, too. I could feel tape pulling on my right shin.

"I don't need to pee," I told her.

"You need to try. You've been in shock. Besides, you need to wash your face and walk a little. Your nose started to bleed a little earlier."

The sun hit her as she stepped into the sunlight, and she was shining. I had to close my eyes. It hurt to look at her.

But I had noticed there was bags on the floor. My backpack and a couple plastic bags. There was a crumpled up Mcdonald's bag, and a small Styrofoam cooler behind the front console. There was another seat behind the drivers' seat, the upholstery was torn and the yellow cushion was sticking out. There was bottles of pills, another bag of IV fluid, some syringes, a couple of medication vials, bandages, gauze, and my first aid kit from home sitting on it.

When the sun hit my face I cringed away from it. She kept pulling until she was out of the van, and from there it was awkward and painful trying to step down and out. Alice helped me.

My feet hit hot gravel. I was barefoot, but I was dressed. I had on an old pair of cut off sweats, and a green tank top. No bra. I had underwear. They felt a little twisted.

"Where are we?" I asked. I was blind. The light just made my head hurt too bad. I kept my good eye closed. I wanted both my eyes.

"At a gas station. We're on two eighty three," she answered. Her hand was on my waist and I heard her slide the van door home.

U.S. Highway 283. The route back home from Texas. North of Roswell put us about three hours away from home. If I was driving.

She supported my weight as she led me in whatever direction the bathroom was, albeit very slowly. I tried to go faster by walking on the balls of my feet and because walking on the gravel was a little painful. At some point we hit some shade, and I took a peak.

It was a gas station. An old, decrepit, Mom and Pop place that was smaller than my house. When I glanced to the right, there was an old man in a pair of overalls and not much else sitting on a bench beside the door staring at us. Or more specifically, staring at _her_. I closed my eye.

Alice was walking around in the sunlight.

"Alice?"

"Bathroom?" She asked, but she was asking him.

"To the side, it's unlocked." he answered quietly, and only a little awestruck.

"Thanks. Step up," she said to me quietly.

I stepped up onto a wood deck. "Alice, the sunlight."

"Keep walking," she murmured, and we did. Two more steps on the deck and to the side, and we were in the sunlight again. "Don't worry. He's old and we're by Roswell. It's not like he's not seen a fucking alien walking around this place."

That might have been true, Roswell did attract the odd and supposedly the occasional extraterrestrial. I couldn't find it in me to really worry about it that much.

I heard a door squeak and grind open, and she led me inside the bathroom, and once the door swung shut I opened my eye. The only light in the bathroom was coming from a singular bulb somewhere. It was the size of closet and smelled like piss. That's when I realized I could smell. My nose wasn't that stuffed.

The floor was grimy and the linoleum was coming up. There was a small sink along the wall, cracked and heavily stained with hard water deposits. Next to it was a sort-of clean commode and a trash can. There were gnats flying along the wall which had a patch job, probably because a pipe broke.

I took a step towards the toilet and we both turned me around. Alice helped me slide my pants and underwear down and helped me sit. The toilet sat low.

I stared at the floor with my good eye. She stood in front of me. I pushed and trickled just a little.

"That's it. That's all I've got."

"It's better than nothing," she answered subdued. She was taking some toilet paper off a roll that was sitting behind me on top of toilet. She handed it to me, and then stepped over to the sink to turn the water on.

She stepped back to help me stand. I was loosening up, but the one-eye thing and my head was really throwing me off-kilter. We both pulled up my pants.

"Wash your face. Don't drink the water." she said quietly. There was an undertone I couldn't place, but it was there.

I stepped over to the sink and bent down. There was a musty smell coming from the water. I cupped the water in my hand and pooled it over my bad eye and nose. My face hurt to touch, and tingles went through my skin. But the water was cool and it perked me up a little bit more. I couldn't help it, I cupped just a little in my hand and swallowed it. My throat was so dry and gritty that it just soaked it right up.

Alice was taking paper towels out of a towel holder, but she had caught me taking the drink. She turned off the water. She shoved the towels in my face while she sighed. I blotted my face dry as I straightened myself up.

I had seen the mirror. Dirty and cracked in one corner. The same could be said about my face. Except it was ruined.

My hair looked like it hadn't been washed in days, and it was all knotted in the back. My eyelid above my right eye was three times the size it normally was, and the bone above it seemed misshapen. Blue, black, and red tinged and marred my swollen cheekbone. The bridge of my nose was off with the rest of it by about a quarter of an inch, and it looked a little indented. Even my good eye was tinged with yellow and gray bruises. My bottom lip was scabbed over in the right corner. They were chapped; cracking.

I pulled my bad eyelid apart. The whites of both my eyes were filled with blood, but my left eye was a little more dilated than the other. I let my lid go, but it wouldn't stay open.

My face was ruined.

Alice was behind me in the mirror. She stared at me both critically and sadly.

"Pretty, aren't I?" I asked.

"No, you're not. Not even on the inside," she said, subdued.

And there it was. The tension had made itself known the moment we had walked into that bathroom.

I turned around to look at her, and in her eyes was hardened pain. The rest of her face was a tight frown. She looked away, and down.

"I'd call you a cold bitch, but you already know you are one," I laughed short. "In more ways than one."

She looked at me and nodded her head. "Yeah, I know, just like you. Let's get you something to drink so you can bitch and moan properly."

I nodded back, even though it hurt. "That would be great. Thanks."

"No problem," Alice said, with just some mild enthusiasm. And she even smiled a little.

The tension was just gone.

I had to close my eye again the moment she opened the door; and it was the gifted leading the blind back outside again and towards the van.

"Hold on. I've got to go pay for some gas," she said, and she let go of my arm. I was in the sun, but still on the deck. I stayed still while I listened to her walk over to the man sitting on the bench.

I took one peek. The van was in front of me and next to one of two gas pumps; it was dark blue and rusting around the wheel wells. There were beams that would have held an awning or a roof over the pumps, but the roof itself was gone. There was a vulture sitting on top of one of them.

"I need sixty bucks worth," I heard Alice say quietly. I watched her hand him some cash. The old man was really that, the Sun had pretty much turned his skin to leather, and it took a couple of seconds to raise his arm and hand to take the cash from her. I closed my eye, pain shot up behind it and through the top of my head.

"Go ahead, pump's on," he told her, his voice low, with a hint of age. Just like he would tell anyone else.

"Thank you," she told him kindly. I listened to her walk back over to me while the rest of me was busy having an episode. It was almost like someone had stuck their hand inside my skull and was giving my brain a good squeeze.

"Alice, my head." I tried not to cry, but it was agony.

She took my arm again. "I know. Step down. I've got you some Percocet. I'll give you one when we get you situated. You should probably eat something, too."

"Got any food?" I wasn't hungry, but my stomach was empty. We both knew taking that shit on an empty stomach would be bad. We had been through it before.

"I have a bag of those little donuts you like, and I stopped at a Mcdonald's this morning for Seth. I saved you an Egg McMuffin." I heard her open the passenger door.

She had food. She had drugs. Alice was Alice. Always resourceful.

She pushed lightly on my back to step closer. I had to step up, and grab the door to do so. She put her hand under my arm to help. I plopped down in the seat, and I hit the middle console with my arm. That and the action of stepping up and using some weight made pain pulse through my shoulder, my neck, my arm, and down my chest. I couldn't keep the cry contained.

"Oh, Jesus Christ..."

"I know. I'm just going to put the top of the seat back a little, okay?" She said, and she popped the lever. The back of the seat went back while I shifted my arm to get it situated to rest on the arm rest. It was more comfortable right away.

She really was being great.

I heard the other van door slide open. She was foraging around in the back. The next thing I felt was a wet, ice cold, plastic bottle hit my hand, and I opened my eye. A bottle of water went into my hand, and she slipped a bottle of purple Gatorade into a cup holder down in the wide console between the seats. She had even popped the top on the bottle of water.

I drank a good quarter of that bottle without taking a breath, but brain freeze caused my head to throb. Alice had walked back to the gas cap to pull it off and start the pump. She then walked back to the open door behind me. I heard her get in the back at the same time I heard a car pass on the road.

"I hate to point out the obvious again, but you're walking around in broad daylight."

"Relax, nothing's going to happen. Here, take this," she said quietly, and at ease. There was a pill in her fingertips right in front of my mouth. I put the bottle of water between my legs and reached up to grab it. I popped it in my mouth and guzzled some water down. Alice plopped a bag in my lap from the back. An open bag of Hostess powdered donuts. I grabbed one to eat while she got out and slid the van door home.

I couldn't taste it. I thought of Peter as I chewed. I thought of his face the last time I saw him. The liquid oil inside his black eyes, and the scars.

The emotion bubbled up from out of nowhere. There was so much pain to deal with that I had to wonder when it would break me down again, but the truth was I never had it together to begin with.

Alice was outside, sort of pacing between the pump and the door. I finished one do-nut and I went in the bag for another one when she stopped at the door and grabbed the seat belt. I kept my eye closed most of the time.

"I'm going to put your belt on," she said subdued.

"How long before they get home?" But I was sobbing and chewing at the same time. Still, she understood.

"About an hour and a half after we get home. Sometime around one thirty, I think," she answered.

"It's three hours to Santa Fe," I told her.

"It'll take me two. Bella, we've got a lot to talk about and we've got to get back to the house. Garrett's getting ready to leave soon."

"What?" I asked, but the door shut. I tried to turn my head to look, but I couldn't. Still, I heard her take the pump out and put the gas cap on.

And it all just flooded my mind. I didn't know what she meant. Garrett was leaving? Was he leaving with Deb? Of course he was. But where were they going? What were they going to do?

I was sitting there in a goddamn van, and my friend, my best friend was burning in a motherfucking unparalleled agony. She couldn't go back to her life. Debbie was going to be a vampire.

Alice opened the driver's door.

"Alice?"

"I called him and I told him we were on our way back. He said he would wait until noon. That's it," she said as a matter-of-fact. She got into the seat and started the van.

"He can't take her away. Where are they going to go? What are they going to do?"

Alice pulled out of the gas station in a rush while she through me a disparaging look and spoke at the same time. "What do you mean what are they going to do? Debbie's going to be a vampire. Garrett will take care of her the only way he knows how, and there's nothing you or Peter can do about it. I know you're worried, but there's nothing you can do."

Rage. All I felt was rage.

"You know what, Alice? Fuck _you_. There might not be nothing _you_ could do about it, but _I don't_ abandon my friends. They're going to need help!"

That hostility in Alice was covered with disbelief and a laugh. "What the fuck are you going to do? Stand at the front of the line when her goddamn heart stops and _be_ there for her? She's going to be a newborn, Bella, you can't do anything, but serve yourself up. Use your goddamn head and think about it! Besides, you've got your _own_ fucking problems to worry about," she whispered out loudly.

We weren't yelling, but we were damn near close.

"I know that, Alice. But you're telling me we can't help them. We can help them, we can find them a place to stay..."

"No, you _can't_. Goddamn it, Bella, you're missing the bigger picture here. That little life you dreamed up inside your head with you and Peter and Debbie and Garrett isn't going to happen, not now! They're going to need their space, and so will you and _Peter_."

"Don't you dare try and tell me what I need. You don't have..." 'A fucking clue what I need', but I couldn't finish. I couldn't breathe.

But I realized at that moment, she probably did.

Her voice was lilt with bells, but she whispered quietly. "Bella, you're in way over your head. Whether you're angry at me or not, you need to let us take care of this. Let _him_ take care of it. Garrett knows what he's doing."

I just looked at her. I didn't know what to say after she said that. Not so much because of Garrett and Debbie, but because of what she said about that little life I had dreamed up. That little life I had thought about at the Festival, before life took a shit on us.

I was losing Debbie. And Garrett.

Maybe I was in over my head. I was. I had been. I _still_ was.

Alice was shifting her eyes back and forth between the road and me. There wasn't so much anger there anymore. What was now gone was replaced with concern.

"Look, it's just the way it has to be right now. I'll make sure they'll be okay. Jasper and I will keep an eye on them. I promise you."

A sob bubbled out of my throat. Tears made both of my eyes sting. All I felt was hopelessness.

"That little life I dreamed up, Alice? How am I supposed to give up on that? She's my best friend. Do you know what it's like to lose that? She's always been there for me."

I watched her face through one blurry eye shatter. A sob the size of a fist left her throat, and hard amber was liquid again.

"I do. And whether you believe it or not, I've always been there for you too. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I have," she cried brokenly.

I was too busy crying to rebut that, but I scoffed at her just the same. Those words though, they also got me thinking.

Neither one of us said anything, and I just stared at the world outside. The land was flat, and barren. Brush grew in clumps and it was too dry. Patches of small mountains were to the northwest. The heat in the air rippled off of the road, making it both a surreal and scary world. Through one eye.

I took one glance at the speedometer. I couldn't see it very well, but I thought the needle was around ninety five miles an hour. The sound of the engine keened was louder than the tires hitting the road. Any faster and that piece of shit would have probably blew up.

The vinyl on the dash was cracked, ripped, and aged with sun. There was dust all over everything; in the vents and layered on the dash. Someone had used there finger to draw a Tic-Tac-Toe game on the dash above the glove compartment. The X's won.

Alice had her seat adjusted almost all the way up. The steering wheel dwarfed her. Her face was somber.

My head felt like it was literally going to explode, but the conversation had started and I was looking for answers. I was looking for some fucking truth. I looked at her. She glanced away from the road as if she were waiting. Her eyes weren't so much liquid anymore.

I didn't even know where to start. So I started with the life I had dreamed up.

"So, you saw what happened with Maria? At the Festival?"

She nodded her head and sighed. "Yes, right after noon, your time. We tried to call you, Peter, and Garrett, over and over. Jasper heard your voice only once. I thought if maybe he got to talk to you, it would soften the blow," she said considerately.

If I didn't balk at her, I was still certain she could see the shock.

The unknown phone calls. The dead ones. Charlotte fucking with fate, over and over again.

Alice scrutinized me, just the same, and she waited.

"I know why you couldn't get through," I told her.

She nodded. "I know. We got here just in time. Peter and Garrett arrived only seconds after Carlos and Maria took you. Seth was...almost killed." She sighed. "And then Seth was going to kill Garrett because he didn't understand when he bit Debbie. Peter...Peter was..."

She didn't finish, and she really didn't have to. Her eyes told the story. I had a good idea that Peter had lost it, I just didn't know how bad.

"What happened? What happened with Seth?"

She laughed while she mock trembled at the same time. "Oh, _God_. Well, Jasper flew out of the goddamn car and knock the living shit out of him. Dislocated his _other_ shoulder. But Seth was great, Bella, he really was. He's very smart."

Alice glanced in the back before looking at the road.

"Why did he come?" I asked, though I had a feeling I was asking the wrong person.

She looked at me and her eyes widened. "_Why_ wouldn't he? Look, I know some things, but you should really ask him about it, okay? He could probably explain it better. I don't want to misinterpret it. Or him."

I would. I just wanted to know everything.

"What happened after that?"

Alice looked at me. Her face was soft, and so was her eyes.

"We went back to the house. It was Seth that gave Peter the idea to crash the plane," she said with a little dread. "I left and I broke into your house to get you and Seth a few things while Peter made Jasper promise to eliminate him if you were dead or going to die. He stopped feeling you, Bella. The moment he stopped feeling you he thought you were dead."

Shock slammed inside my heart. It was breathtaking, and almost a little bit horrifying. Oh, it was a _good_ thing; but the impact it had was almost too much to take. At the same time, though, I really shouldn't have been surprised.

If I could feel Peter the way I did, what was to say he couldn't feel the same thing coming from me? Of _course_ he could.

Alice was watching me almost guardedly while keeping her eyes on the road. She was being very forthcoming, so much that I was actually afraid of what she would say next.

"How...how was he?" But I could not keep it contained. My heart was breaking, just at the thought of him.

Alice smiled very gently. "I think a part of him died, but he came back. It was very hard. I was um...keeping them updated. You need to know something, though. I couldn't see everything. Something was blocking my ability most of the time. But when she hit you? Well, all hell broke loose, but it kind of needed to happen. And then Peter and Jasper almost got into a fight...but he wasn't telling us anything," she laughed, though it was bittersweet.

"Did you know that bastard wanted to shove me out the goddamn window? I mean, my God. When she hit you? Even I thought for a moment you were..."

She looked like she swallowed a golf ball, her throat was so tight. And that little spill was only a little confusing, but I guess it was one of those situations where you just had to be there.

"Maria had one hell of a left hook," I told her.

Alice cringed and smiled at the same time.

"Don't ask me to tell you what crashing that plane was like. That was just...awful. I don't think Seth will ever get over it. And I don't think anyone of us will ever get on a plane with Peter again."

I could almost feel it, the terror in her from such a thing. And though she sort of smiled it off, I knew she was dead serious.

It was quiet for just a moment. Somehow I thought I knew the conversation was going to head south. I _wanted_ it to.

Alice looked over at me and I could almost see the burning question inside her eyes.

"It's your turn. How do you _know_?"

It was just like Jasper's question. I had a fairly good idea that Alice knew _everything_, except for that. And maybe it was a little immature of me, but I wasn't just wasn't quite ready to answer that yet. We were being quite cordial to one another, and she had some things to answer for.

I didn't just want the truth with Peter, I wanted it all. I wanted to know why she had sent Garrett in the first place, and I wanted to know why she 'thought' she was there for me when she wasn't at all. It was a long, fucking drive, no matter how fast she was going. We had _plenty_ of time.

But the dread inside my chest was almost suffocating out the feeling of Peter.

"You don't get to ask me that just yet. I want to know why you think you've been there for me. You weren't around, not for anything. Not for Edward, or Jake, or my mom. Do you have any idea how much I needed you then? You said I was your best friend, Alice. You sure had a fucking sweet, ass way of showing it."

There was some kind of malicious grin on her face and in her eyes. "God, you really need to fucking grow up and get over shit already. Have you thought all this time that I haven't been watching? Or better yet, waiting? You're right, I wasn't there for you when _Jake_ dumped you, or when Renee died. I _wasn't_. But I grieved for you and Renee just the same, and there was nothing, _nothing_ more that I wanted than to come to you and be there for you," she said vehemently and thickly. Her eyes were liquid and fury all rolled into one.

"But you're missing the bigger picture again, and you know why? Because you won't think outside the box, and all you can think about is yourself. I couldn't be there any time, any time at all, because _I _wasn't _supposed_ to be. _He_ was."

I just stared at her.

And then it all just sunk in.

I wanted to throw up. And in fact, I felt like I was going to. That shit had nothing to do with pain medication.

She was confirming my divine-influenced epiphany out loud, but she had really been doing that all along. I could understand for some reason that the reason she was saying she had always been there for me was because she had always been watching. And Peter, had always been there.

That was fucked up. She wasn't there for me. Was she? How the fuck was I supposed to wrap my head and my heart around it all?

Alice grabbed the bottle of Gatorade out of the cup holder and was ripping through the top wrapper with her teeth to pull up the top.

"See, I knew this was going to fucking happen," she said with disgust. "I know you're not just thinking about yourself, I know that. And you're right, I haven't been there for you. God, I'm so sorry. Do you know how hard this is, even for me?"

"No. I don't. I don't know everything. The only thing I know is you, Jasper, and Peter have either kept the truth from me or flat out lied to me," I told her weakly.

My head began to pound as she sighed out. I shifted my legs to grab the Gatorade bottle from her with my good hand, when the bag of do-nuts and the bottle of water fell down to the floor. I was pretty sure she let go of the wheel for a second to rummage back behind the seat, because my ears were still open. A bag of something ice cold and wet landed on my lap.

"Put that on your face. I never meant to hurt you, and I never wanted to betray you. But you need to tell me what you know _now_, Bella. You want answers? I'll tell you everything I know. Peter had his chance, so many goddamn times it's not even funny. But you need to tell me. It will all make that much more sense."

I laughed around the bottle lip as I took another drink. She kept talking.

"You want to know what happened when Edward left you?" Alice asked, crying. "Do you know who it was that carried you out of the woods?"

"Yeah, it was Peter. I know that now."

"Good," she paused. "You want to know what I was doing?" She asked nonchalantly, but she was still crying. We both had a case of the blubbers.

"What?"

"I was trying to save my marriage."

I didn't understand what she was saying.

"What?"

She shrugged her shoulders, but there was frustration there. "I didn't understand. I didn't know what to make of it, up until I saw him pick you up and take you home. And I still didn't, but I had a pretty good idea. That's when I told Jasper about the things I had seen, and what I thought was going to happen. And that was really fucking dumb, because he was still upset with himself for trying to kill you. You think it was so easy to leave you? It wasn't. Not at all," she said with bitterness. "He didn't believe me. I mean, if I knew that much about you and Peter, why didn't I do anything to stop it?"

Alice had an inside track to Peter. It wasn't the first time he had been a part of my fate. It wasn't. I could understand what she was trying to tell me. It was my birthday. It was Jasper trying to kill me.

"You're talking about my birthday. Jasper assumed you knew what was going to happen and you didn't do anything to stop it."

"_Yes_," she said, and she sighed. "But it wasn't just that. You have to understand, I couldn't tell him anything because I didn't know what to make of it. And anything I did tell him about Peter just upset him. It hasn't been easy for Jasper," she cried. "It hasn't been easy for _me_. Peter means so much to him. But Peter was in Forks the day after your birthday party, and I thought, I thought maybe he had come to see Jasper, but there was just no future in it. Jasper and I were gone, anyway, and Peter was just...waiting."

She put her thumb and her forefinger underneath her eyes while she sobbed into the palm of her hand to will herself not to cry. She took a deep, calming, unneeded breath and blew it out slowly.

"When Edward decided to leave you and asked us to leave you, I had to make a choice. Edward had his chance, and he wasn't going to change his mind. I told Jasper what I knew about Peter and you, and he thought I knew what was going to happen that night and didn't do anything to stop it. I think he still doubts it," she said morosely.

"Did you? Honestly?" I asked.

Her head snapped over.

"No!" She bit out.

I believed her.

"I believe you. What happened?"

She swallowed hard. "I didn't know what was going to happen after that, but I couldn't keep it in anymore. I couldn't watch Edward fall apart and deal with the guilt. I mean, I was keeping shit from him, shit about _you_. He's my brother, too. Did you know he made me promise not to look? I mean, really?" She laughed in an unbelievable way. 

"Do you know how hard it was, trying to keep that side of things out of my head when he was around and reading my goddamn mind? I mean, I was angry at him. So, so angry at him because he left you and asked us to do the same. And Peter...well, like I said, I had a pretty good idea. So we did what we had to do."

It all made sense.

"You left them. You and Jasper left them."

She nodded, but she didn't look at me as she cried. "Yes. Something was going to happen. I was sure of it, and goddamn it, I _wanted_ it to happen, whatever it was, because I _knew_ it would be a very good thing," she paused. "God, I wish you could appreciate the risk we took, the sacrifice we made. I really wish you could," she sobbed out openly.

Oh, the thought was overwhelming. And though it maybe shouldn't have, it changed the perspective I had harbored over _everything_ concerning Alice and Jasper. Because when it boiled down to it, they didn't leave me because of Edward.

They left me because of Peter. In the long run, it was Peter.

She knew deep down, he was going to be a big part of my life. She knew he was my life. They had had to make a choice. I could tell because of her eyes, that it hadn't been an easy one. That's what Jasper had meant when he told me he gave up Hale for me.

"Edward...Edward never blamed Jasper for it, did he?"

Alice looked at me and shook her head remorsefully. "No. I mean, the only thing he was angry about was that Jasper had been pushing the limits of his control to build up his tolerance, but no. Still, though, Jasper wanted to leave, too. Not just because of what I told him. He thought he ruined Edward's life. So we left them."

My nose was running freely. There was some Mcdonald's napkins sitting on the dash. Alice grabbed them and lay them on my lap.

"Don't blow too hard. You're going to start bleeding again. It'll stop in four minutes," she sobbed out.

She was right. I blew only a little because it hurt so badly just to do so. I could feel and taste the rust and the salt, and I tucked my head into my chest to just let it flow.

Three minutes later, I had already forgiven her for ever leaving me. How could I not, when it had in fact altered not just my life, but Alice and Jasper's as well?

My nose was still oozing, but I put my head back and just decided to swallow some of the shit. I managed to roll down the window and I threw the used napkins into the wind.

"You should be dead. I'm pretty sure you were bleeding inside your brain. I gave you an injection of corticosteroids, but I don't think it would have mattered," Alice said quietly.

"What?"

"A shot to reduce the swelling on your brain. It's a long story, but Carlisle said that was the best way to go, and to drill a hole in your head. Or bite you," she said dully and laughed under her breath. "I probably could have just left it all alone."

I turned my head to look at her. "Did you drill a hole in my head?" Did she?

She rolled her eyes and blanched at the same time. "No. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing."

"Carlisle?" I asked. She had spoken with Carlisle?

She glanced at me and nodded. "Yes. He says to tell you hello. He was at work when I called him. They live in Alaska with the rest, but he and Esme have a place in Anchorage because Carlisle works at the hospital and Esme volunteers there. We still spend Christmas together. I've only told them very little about you—Where you live, and about your teaching ambitions. I imagine he'll be waiting at my house when I get home. He's going to need a better explanation than the one I gave him. Can you understand now why it's not been easy, not even for us?" She asked imploringly.

"Yes, I can understand that. I can tell you I'm sorry, but I don't know if it makes it right. None of this is right. You kept the truth from me, too. I just...I don't know what to think. I don't know what to _feel_. I'm angry and I'm hurt. You _weren't_ there. You weren't with me. I missed you. But I'm sorry, I'm sorry for whatever you went through with Jasper and the rest of the family."

Her eyes were swimming. A rim of amber stood out brightly, but they had darkened with the scent of blood.

She laughed a little. "I know that. Look, this isn't going to solve itself overnight. But I just didn't do all of this for Peter, I did this for you too. I'm not your best friend anymore, I understand that. But...I love you. I always have," she started to lose it, and she started to cry again. "And you're not ugly on the inside. You're not ugly, at all. But fuck you for ripping up my magazines."

_Oh, my God. _

"You didn't contact me for almost four years and you think I'm going to let you plan my fucking wedding? You've got your nerve." I told her lightly. "And quit lying to me. My face is fucked up. I'm going to need a plastic surgeon."

"Shut up. It's going to be _beautiful_." she murmured. "And don't worry about your face. I know a plastic surgeon. He'll do you right," she said quietly, frowning and looking at the road ahead.

I knew exactly what she meant. I didn't put too much thought into it, because that was the future. Still my future.

Alice looked over at me. "Now, _tell_ me. I can help you."

God, how did I put it? I had to sit there and think about it for a few seconds. Mainly because I was still thinking about everything she had said. And particularly, about Peter. If she saw him before Edward left me, what other times did she see him?

I decided though just to get it out.

"You know why you only saw so much, and nothing after Maria knocked me out? Because I was too busy having a conversation with Peter's dead wife. Charlotte told me. Or showed me, is more like it. I spent some time with her and my mother in a goddamn hole. They were the ones that told me I needed to jump."

There was shock and disbelief of course. Nevertheless, she was speechless.

"Don't believe me?" I asked.

"I do."

But it was Seth that answered, from the makeshift bed in the back. And he was slowly making his way out of it, groaning. And it shocked me, hearing his voice, because I had honestly forgotten all about him for a few minutes.

Alice was looking at him, me, and the road. More at me. "Charlotte?"

But I couldn't answer her, because I was more focused on listening to Seth make his way to the front. I couldn't turn my head to see, but he was stumbling forward, and then he was there. His head popped in between the seats above me; he was holding his arm in the sling back as he slipped in-between the seats to park his butt somewhat on the console that sat low in the middle.

He looked rough. His hair was hanging a little over his face, his beard was starting to come in, and he was very tired as he rubbed his cheeks and eyes.

Seth smiled, and he leaned forward to kiss me on the lips, very softly. He pulled back.

"Hey. You look like hell." His voice was thick with sleep.

I started to cry. Dear, God. The choices I had made had almost killed him.

His left hand—the good one—came at my face and he cupped my cheek. "Stop already."

He was grinning actually a little sadly. His finger was like a feather as he wiped away the tears on the bad side of my face, and then the good side.

"I mean it. Stop. I believe you," he nodded, smiling more. "You're _special_," he said in an exaggerated and condescending kind of way.

"Shut up. Oh, God, Seth. I am so sorry."

He tsked, only once. His face wasn't smiling nor was it frowning. It was just soft.

"It's not your fault," he said in a monotone. "It was fate. Charlotte fucked with it. There were reasons I was supposed to be here, you know. It was to teach me a few things about people and myself. And I think I'm supposed to tell you a secret, too."

I just looked at him, and then I looked at Alice. Her neck turned just as I looked at her.

"He knows," she said. "And he's absolutely right."

Seth glanced up at her, flippant and irritated. "Yeah, and you're a deceitful, little turd. Couldn't see, my ass."

Alice smiled. "I really couldn't see, Seth."

"Sing it to the choir. You could go to hell for lying, you know," he finished with a groan as he adjusted his ass on the console. I saw his face twist a little in pain.

"What are you talking about? And are you alright?"

Seth's face was just an inch higher than my head on the seat back. I don't know why, but his presence was a calming influence on mine. I didn't feel so crazy anymore. Even with the fact that he knew about Peter probably before I did.

He looked at me softly. "I'm a lot better than you. My shoulders are fucked up but they're feeling better. I'm good. And we're just talking about some things you don't really need to concern yourself with right now. We're not keeping anything from you, it's just that Peter was pushing us all to our limits. We can talk about it later, if you want, but you should probably tell us more about what happened. What do you mean, 'she showed you'?

I was looking at Seth, and I knew he believed me. I knew Alice did too, but at that moment I realized that I had judged him wrong.

He had a good heart.

I couldn't stop crying, looking at him. Because the guilt of almost costing him his life, and the guilt of my misconstrued opinion of him was a lot to deal with. He was just a good kid who always did right by others, no matter what fate had done to him. Inside I was ashamed, but proud and happy nonetheless.

Was there ever going to be a point when all this ugliness that I had inside me was ever going to go away? I had kept the truth from him when he first arrived, when I should have told him to begin with. I _was_ a self-centered bitch.

Seth was fussing over _me_. It should have been the other way around. There was still a couple more napkins laying in my lap and he grabbed them.

"God...stop it," he sighed, and I could tell I was upsetting him. He dabbed my eyes, and then held them for me to blow. The ice pack also found it's way back up to my eye and nose. He had taken his other arm out of the sling.

"Tell us what you mean."

The slick and thick shit in my throat as I swallowed made me cough and gag at the same time.

"I had dreams. When I was a little girl, Peter caught me when I fell off a slide. And then when Edward left me, Peter picked me up in the forest and he took me home. Then there was the day I jumped off the cliff at First Beach, and the night I got accosted after work. She even spoke to me in those dreams, but I thought it was Peter. I dreamed _all_ of that before Maria hit me."

Alice sobbed into her hand. Her eyes were on the road.

Seth was just looking at me, frowning, and rubbing my bad cheek with the pad of his finger. "What did you dream about after she hit you?"

His voice was just that soothing.

"Well, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt _real_. I was in an old well, or something. Charlotte was there and she told me a lot of things, but she told me she gave Peter a gift, she told me she gave him 'me'. He saw my life. Those times, he was really there. And then she showed me what he looked like when he crawled out," I cried. "I think he was coming to find me. And then my mom was there, and I got to hold her, and they told me I had to jump. They are angels."

Seth did a double take, while looking at me. "They told you you had to jump?"

"Yeah. Crazy, huh?"

Seth stared at me, frowning, and he stared at me a moment before he answered. "No, I don't think you're crazy. But you see, the thing is...God, Angels, and all that crap? I think when we really see it, it makes us crazy. When you lived your life a certain way for so long, it breaks you down because now you know there really is something special and unique out there. It's just like finding out about vampires and big, naked, _men_ that turn into wolves, right?"

I laughed, and it hurt.

"You're right."

He was right. And even though I had thought about the miracle of it all before, Seth's words had meant the most. I could really appreciate the beauty of it all in eyes like his, but it was just so much to digest.

Seth was sort of smiling and frowning at the same time again. The smile was just on his face. The frown was in his eyes.

"It's your fate, Bella. It always has been. I tried telling your boyfriend that, but I think it went in one ear and out the other."

I smiled at him. It was my fate.

"What's your secret?" I asked, and I didn't dread it so much.

Concern and question filled his eyes in the next second. He didn't say anything. And it was as if he were looking right through me. Seth smiled, but something felt off about him. It was almost as if he were missing something.

He just stared at me for a moment like he was expecting something, but whatever it was, it never came.

"What's the matter?"

His eyes focused as the right side of his face quirked between a frown and a smile. "Remember the laws of the Alpha? You know, the Alpha gives an order and those a part of him must obey?"

I had to think on that a second, but I remembered right away. "You mean the order to never tell? Jake couldn't tell me. I had to guess."

"Yeah, like that, but not the same. Well...I _guess_ it doesn't apply to me anymore. This really wasn't the first time I met Peter. I mean it was, but...well, I've seen him before. The day my father died, and the day you jumped off the cliff, he was in the water. He's the one that caught Victoria. That's how come I know you're not crazy, without all of them telling me about him and you. Because _I_ honestly thought the guy was an angel. And I guess in a way, he is. But he was there that day. I saw him through Jake's eyes."

I might not have dreaded it, but it certainly knocked the breath out of me. He _was_ there.

"He was there. But I don't...understand." I didn't understand why I didn't know about it. Why Jake never said anything.

Seth nodded. "Yeah. See, the thing is, Jake never knew what to make of him, other than he was just another bloodsucker. And I realize now...that _maybe_ the reason he never told you, and _maybe_ the reason he ordered us not to, was because he was under an order _himself_. I saw Peter through his eyes. Peter _gave_ him the order. Not so much with words, and I don't think he was the one actually enforcing it, but...he's what we were still running patrols for when you were still with Jake. Hell, even now he's still the reason."

Dear God, was there anyone _not_ involved? With the knowledge I had now or without it, was there anyone that had managed to escape? But that wasn't the only thought I had. I started thinking about how Seth saw Peter. If he could see it through Jake's eyes, then Jake most definitely saw what happened through Seth's.

Seth realized it, before I really got a chance to say anything. Jake was just the type of asshole to stick his nose where it didn't belong.

"Oh God, Seth. Is Jake..."

"What you're thinking is exactly what you don't need to worry about. I can't hear them or see them anymore. My bond has been cut. I just don't know if it was me that cut it or something else. Besides, you think I'd let him try to start something? Don't you worry about that," he said, and I caught the underlying threat inside his voice.

His bond was cut? Was that the price he had to pay for helping us? If Jake found out what happened, what would happen to Seth? My chest was extremely heavy, and I couldn't breathe right.

"Oh God, Seth. What are you..."

Seth didn't let me finish. Again.

"Relax. Don't worry about me. I'm still a kick ass dog. I'm not gonna miss hearing all that bullshit _that_ much," he said honestly, and he smiled. "I was a part of something big here, Bella. Something that's bigger than all of us. And you know what Jasper told me? Something I now believe with my entire heart? He told me that maybe there's a reason we're all supposed to _be_. Well, even if Charlotte fucked with fate, this is the way _it's_ supposed to be. And you know what's the best part about it all?"

"What?"

He smiled. "If your mom is still out there, then so is my dad. I can talk to him, and I'll know he's listening," Seth said, and the prospect of doing just that was in his eyes.

Of course it was. That was the best thing about it all. Life still went on, in some way.

But I knew as I looked into his eyes, Seth's life wasn't ever going to be the same again. I just didn't know if it was going to be for the best, and I blamed myself for it.

He looked at my lap, picked up the bottle of Gatorade, and nudged it in my hand which was laying lazily across my stomach.

"Drink up, and quit worrying about me. The only thing you need to worry about is yourself. You're fucked up, Bella, and your whole fucking life has changed. Again. You have every right to be self-centered about that," he said firmly, and he threw Alice a look.

But he turned back to me and all I could see was deep concern.

"I don't think your Peter is ever going to be the same again, either. You're not going to leave him or anything, are you?" He asked quietly.

I saw Alice's head turn, and I had to wonder if she really didn't know the answer.

"No. I can't. I love him too much. Plus, I can feel him too, you know? It's the thickest desire I've ever had, and he's who makes me happy. But, I feel..."

I didn't know how I felt anymore. Was I still angry at him? Not so much anymore. But he had lied to me and deceived me to get what he wanted. Which was me, but still.

Was I just supposed to forget about it? Forget every little lie that was told in the effort to protect the truth?

"He's lied to me, over and over. And I still don't know everything, you know? I know there's more. And what if he blames me? I mean, this...this was my fault. Charlotte might have changed fate, but he went through it again because of choices I made."

"You're wrong, Bella, and you know that. Are you forgetting about who he and Garrett killed?" Alice asked.

"No, no. I know. But, it's just the thought that he might. And the lies...I mean, he even lied about ice cream. I know he did now."

I don't know why the fuck I thought about that. Half-Baked and Phish Food. He knew damn well what I liked. That son of a bitch had screwed up, and it had been right under my nose the entire time.

Seth was looking at me like I grew a second head. He shook it off.

"Look, we both can tell you for a fact that Peter's not blaming you for this shit. Peter's putting all the blame on Charlotte. The dude hates her fucking guts. It's okay to feel betrayed, people have been keeping shit from you for a long time. Hell, probably your _whole_ life. But you need to tell him how you feel. He's the only one that can fix it. In the mean time, you can take it out on Alice, because I think this bitch is hiding more than anybody. You won't mind, will ya' Alice?" Seth asked, looking at her with a big grin on his face.

Alice rolled her eyes and let go of the wheel long enough to give Seth her middle finger.

Peter knew Charlotte changed fate. The question was, if he had seen my whole life, when did it change? But at the same time, it didn't really matter. What was done, was done.

Still, there had been instances throughout our relationship when he had been caught off guard, and no one could act that much.

Alice sighed. "Seth is right. He is putting all the blame on Charlotte. But, you're right too. You don't know everything. And I think I might know where you can get some more answers. Maybe it will help you, too."

"What do you mean?"

She was quiet for a minute. Seth got into the cooler to pull out a bottle of water to drink. Alice's face twisted once and she looked like she was going to cry again.

"When we left him after Charlotte died, I never stopped looking for Peter. I just watched him disintegrate a little more day by day with each decision he made. Then he just disappeared, and I couldn't see him anymore. We didn't know if he had stopped looking for Maria or if he was dead. We assumed the worse..." she paused, and looked at me.

"But I have a question. When you say he 'crawled out', are you talking about the hole you were in when you were unconscious?"

"Yes. He carved my name in a rock down there. Charlotte told me she gave him, 'two years to cool down'. I think that's when he saw my life, and she showed me what he looked like. He could hardly walk. That's why I think he crawled out."

She nodded, and she was wary. "I saw him too, then. But when I saw him, he was killing four men. A few weeks later, I saw him crawling in through the window of a small house. It didn't make sense then, Bella you need to understand that. But inside that room was a little human girl who had _your_ eyes and _your_ lips. You were just a baby. That was the first time I ever saw you. I just didn't know it. You were only about two years old."

It was bigger, bigger than I realized. Of course it was bigger. But even the smallest of details around it were life-altering. There was just no accurate way to describe the way it filled my heart, yet took pieces of it at the same time.

"Oh, my God."

There was an unbelievable look to her face that probably rivaled the one I had, and the emotion inside hers went deep.

"Yes, exactly. I was seeing him do things that revolved around you for almost your entire life without ever realizing it was you. Some things were of no consequence, not then. Now, they're the key. When he first crawled inside that room, I thought he was going to kill you. But that's just what I thought. He just watched you, and his future fluctuated. He didn't want to kill you, he wanted to _take_ you, and raise you. Only it solidified into something else."

"Into what?"

Alice looked at me, grinning and laughing short under her breath. "He started thinking about building a house. The one he's lived in ever since."

My house. He had said it was mine now. He said I could clean it as much as I fucking needed to. He told me just weeks ago that when he built that house, he thought it helped him heal a little, so that's when he decided he would build more.

And I could somewhat understand maybe what his thinking was back then. If he saw my life, he had to let me grow. He had let me live my life, even when I was two. I had to experience life, and I had to appreciate it. But the temptation was there, because he had seen everything; and he didn't want me to experience some of it.

I started thinking about my childhood. Some of the things I could have gone without. Some of things I did go without. My life, the trials and tribulations, being raised by my mother and father, who were worlds apart. But things weren't always bad. I had for the most part a happy childhood and I experienced adolescence just as most experienced it. I actually had it pretty easy compared to others. But maybe it wasn't as easy as Peter would have liked it to have been.

Alice hit a bad chuckhole in the road and Seth grabbed the seat with his bad arm. Pain flashed across his face as it fell, and his eyes unfocused for a minute.

"Are you okay?"

Seth looked at me and smiled. There was something in his eyes I couldn't place. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, I'm just a little sore is all."

Alice was just looking at the road and driving. She looked like she was worn down, or even troubled.

"You said you know of way I could get some more answers. Tell me how."

She looked over at me and grinned a little sadly while shrugging her shoulders. "Garrett."

It was just his name she said, but she said it with meaning behind it.

There was a reason Garrett had come, and it was because of Alice.

"Garrett knows?" It wouldn't have surprised me at that point, I was defeated.

She nodded remorsefully. "Yes. But you see, I didn't just ask him to come for Peter, it was for you and Debbie, too. Garrett was the answer to everything. You don't understand how lucky Debbie is. By sending him I was able to see more of what was going on with Peter, because your futures kept changing. Peter wanted to tell you, Bella. Many times, but it was...always devastating. I knew Garrett could help. Jasper and I couldn't get involved, not then. And Debbie...well, she would have died in a car crash that morning because you're phone was off. I saw your future without her. You blamed yourself. I couldn't let it happen," she said quietly.

She confused me.

"But Debbie didn't die in the car crash, Alice. She was sideswiped, but she wasn't hurt that bad."

Alice shook her head and dreadfully humphed. "No, no. Not that one. It was another one, after that. With Mandy? She died, too. Two wrecks in one day. Talk about some shitty luck."

And then I remembered. Debbie had said that if she hadn't been able to reach me after trying that very first weekend I had spent with Peter, her last resort would have been Mandy. And there was the pile up that morning on the freeway; when Peter, Garrett, and I had drove to the hospital. Two people were killed. Mandy would have had to have taken the freeway to get back to her place.

"Oh, Jesus Christ. We passed a pile up on the freeway that morning on the way to go get her. Two people were killed."

Alice looked at me and nodded.

Seth was wheeling. "Jesus Christ,you changed fate. She was destined to die."

Alice glanced at him morosely. "Fate is what we make of it."

How did I feel about that? Well, she saved my friend. But Alice was holding _so_ much back.

"But why not let Peter tell me? I mean, that's what you're saying, right? You sent Garrett down here so Garrett could talk him out of telling me."

The tears were starting to fall again. I didn't sound the least bit threatening, and I was overwhelmed by what she had said about Debbie.

"Yes, I did," she said indifferently. "And I would do it again. You didn't love him enough, you would have left him. Garrett was the answer to all your problems. Don't ask me what I saw, because I will never tell you." She glanced at me in a subdued way, but in her eyes I saw fear.

"You know everything, goddamn it. What else are you hiding?"

She looked over at me, no emotion on her face. "I don't know everything, but there's a lot I'm not telling you. Believe it or not, I'm only looking out for you. I'm sorry if that doesn't _please_ you, but tough shit," she ended firmly.

"Tough shit!? Tough shit!? I didn't ask you to look out for me, Alice! I didn't ask you for one goddamn thing! You're talking about my fucking life! _My_ fucking life! What the fuck am I supposed to do with it now?!"

There was a future she was hiding; and maybe several. I was sure of it. It was a future that had once been Peter telling me the truth, at a time when our relationship was just new and almost cataclysmic, and sometimes bordering on insanity.

The episode I had after I had yelled at her was nothing short of being brutal. If the physical pain wasn't enough to kill me, the mental breakdown surely would. And it wasn't just because she was keeping truths from me, she had saved my best friend.

Coherency played a factor for a couple of minutes. I was in that place between consciousness and unconsciousness, in between the light and the dark; where the voices made no sense, but the pictures did.

Seth, who looked worried. And Peter, who just smiled at me.

You could compare the pulsing pain in my head with an earthquake. The pressure was alleviated, but pulsing pain echoed like aftershocks. Seth's warm hands were on my face, but I couldn't open my eyes. My brain was still being squeezed repeatedly.

But warm hands were replaced by cold ones, an ice pack, and something made of cloth. A needle went into my arm. Blood flowed down the back of my throat because I had let my head fall back. I coughed it up.

"Nice and slow, come on. Deep breaths, Bella. Just breathe," Alice said, but she didn't sound so calm.

I figured out at that moment we must have stopped. I opened my eyes and fought for focus. Alice was half-standing and half-sitting with her leg was up beside mine; and the back of the chair had been reclined all the way. Seth was bent over and still on my left, but he was standing too.

Alice's eyes were obsidian and hard. She was using a t-shirt to wipe my face, and the blood must have poured out thick. The rust was all I could smell and taste. But I had about an eighth of an inch's worth of vision on my right eye. It had managed to open. There was two Alice's.

Seth looked like he thought I was checking out of my so-called life, and maybe I was. It might have been a miracle I was still alive, but you couldn't put off the inevitable.

Alice looked like she wanted to bite me. There was a fierce determination inside her eyes that overshadowed the panic.

As each second ticked by, I just stared at her. What else was there to do? I knew she wasn't going to tell me whatever she was fucking hiding, and she knew I knew that. All the disdain I had inside me was for her at that moment, and I needed to filter it somewhere. I had more than enough to confront Peter, and I was going to do just that.

Fate was still with Peter, and fuck the rest.

Fuck the rest.

But as I laid there feeling defeated and disconnected, I thought about leaving him, for just a moment. It was just for a moment. A flash, as quick as a lightning strike. There was no future in it.

Alice's face was steadily falling, until I could almost see the remorse I felt inside her eyes. I was fucking crazy, and the betrayal still cut deep, after all.

Cool thumbs passed lightly underneath my eyes. She breathed out. "I know it's your _life_. I just want you to keep it. You have to trust me, Bella."

"Then tell her the fucking truth. All you're fucking doing is hurting her," Seth bit out, his voice thick. He had yanked his t-shirt out of her hands, to wipe off my neck.

She was ignoring him. "I'm telling you everything you need to know now. The things that didn't happen, the past? It doesn't matter now. You need to trust me. You want to know more? You want to know about what he did? He kept _journals_, Bella. I think he wrote everything down."

Energy burned into my marrow and coursed through my veins like it never had before, with just that one piece of information.

"He kept journals? Of what?"

She looked down at me pointedly. "I _really_ don't know, but I imagine it has everything to do with you. Peter and Garrett burned one of them. It was the 'mockery of your future', that's what Garrett called it. But there was _more_."

My head started tingling right when I thought about that chest. I could feel it, right it the front of my head with the pressure. It pulsed, but it wasn't because I knew that's where I'd find the truth he kept from me.

There was a burning sensation in my eyes. I felt incredibly loopy.

The chest. The extension of him that he got rid of because he had suddenly decided he didn't like it anymore.

"What did you give me?" I asked her.

"Another shot of corticosteroids, with a side of Demorol." she said, but she looked at me curiously.

"She needs to go to a fucking hospital," Seth said, but we paid him no attention.

Alice and I were too busy staring at each other.

That chest. The chest I didn't like because of the image that was carved and depicted into it. A swan and an ugly duckling.

The ugly truth to be bared lay inside. To the Swan. To me.

And I knew where I would find the key to unlock it. I just didn't know where the chest was. He would have kept it close, no matter what. I was sure of it.

"There's a chest. They would be inside the chest," I said to her.

Alice shook her head as she thought. Her brow furrowed. "I don't know. I didn't see anything like that."

"What time is it?" I asked.

She moved off a bit to grab a phone, sitting in a cubbyhole down in the console somewhere. "Ten minutes until eleven."

Her phone sung out a little jingle. She pushed a button and took a deep breath in. "It's Jasper. They just crossed the border."

"Get me home. Now."

Fatigue set in not long after that. I fought to stay awake, but eventually Alice's Demorol cocktail had its way and knocked me out for most of the last hour of the drive. Seth had cleared out the seat behind Alice and had stayed quiet for the most part, especially when she pushed that piece of shit up to a hundred and five.

I spent most of the time awake thinking about Peter, and what I would find. There wasn't a thing I desired more other than him. I had the truth. I had heard and seen and experienced everything I needed to confront him with.

No matter what my fate had been, it had always been with Peter. But he had still hurt me in the worst possible way and he needed to know exactly how I felt. There was some things that were going to be said only to him. I didn't tell Seth and Alice everything.

But I needed to know what was in that chest, because I was still searching for something, and I didn't know what it was. Oh, I thought about it, and the only thing I figured out was that chest would give me a way to find some more solace with the betrayal I felt. Miraculous things had happened all around me and _to_ me. And though I could appreciate the beauty of it, I don't think I had embraced it fully.

I need to talk to him. I needed him to explain it all to me. I needed to see his face. I needed him to tell me he loved me no matter what mistakes I had made. No matter how we were connected, or bonded.

He had years to get used to the idea of us. I had forty six days.

Oh, was he going to have to work to repair the damage he had done, and I was going to _make_ him fucking do it. I had value, I had earned his respect. But I needed to feel it from him. I need him to tell me I wasn't fucking worthless because that's how he made me feel.

I was still a walking contradiction, because I knew I wasn't worthless in his eyes, not by a long shot. He had went through hell for me.

I tried to prepare myself for what would probably be the most negative and emotional onslaught of heartbreak, loss, _and_ beauty I had experienced, but there was really no way I could. I had some truths of my own to come clean with, and I knew it was going to break me down when I did.

If what Alice and Seth had said about Charlotte was true, I was going to tell him just why it wasn't all her fault. Because it wasn't. She had said herself she didn't want to die, and maybe he needed to know that; and maybe not just because she had died violently by the hands of Maria. Maybe he needed to know that because of all the things she needed to tell him, but never had gotten the chance to.

She would have loved him for all time, and she would have been happy with just him, no matter what she missed out on by not being human anymore. I owed it to her.

I was jarred from sleep by someone repeatedly hitting their car horn, and by Seth who was talking Alice back to reality.

"Alice...Alice! The light's green!"

The pedal went down and we made a quick and sharp left. My sight was still off, my head was still pounding, and I looked over at Alice who was looking through the rear view mirror.

There was panic inside me. Anxiety. I had trouble catching my breath.

"Where are we?"

"We're home." Alice said, just as I recognized the top of the BP gas sign that sat on the corner for Old Las Vegas Boulevard. I fumbled around for the seat lever on my right to raise the back of the seat up, just as she slowed down to make a right for The Village. By the time I had it up, I was nauseous.

I looked at Alice. She was staring at the road very hard as the van turned right and climbed the mountain.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

She glanced at me, and shook it off. "Nothing. Garrett's getting ready to leave. You're going to have to say goodbye."

I said nothing. I was going to wait and see what I met with. I didn't think goodbye was the answer.

"Bella, you okay?" Seth asked. I still couldn't turn my head to look at him.

"I'm fine." I told him.

Three minutes later we turned left onto the gravel, and made our way up the ridge line. We passed by Marcy's house; and I could see past the wall and into the yard, where Summer's little plastic pool was waiting for her to come jump in it. One more curve around the ridge, into the thicket of pinions that lined both sides, the house came into view. The garage door was up, and the Camaro was inside, with the trunk up.

I was already getting out by the time Alice made it over and Seth had slid open the door. The chest was temporarily forgotten. I had to see Debbie.

"Bella, wait."

I payed no attention to Alice. But my equilibrium was still playing a factor, and I had to hold on to the door so I didn't fall down on my face. Alice and Seth both grabbed a hold to keep me up. Just then, the door that was inside the garage that led inside the house opened, and Garrett appeared in the shadows. Forlorn and a little taken aback, he looked rough.

I stumbled my way into the open garage with my eyes closed and with Seth and Alice holding on. I was in his arms the next second. He was crushing my arm against me.

"Jesus Christ," he breathed out. Garrett pulled back, and I opened my eyes when the pain released from my shoulder. "Look at you. Jesus Christ."

"Hi." Was all I could say. Garrett just looked at every part of my face. The anger in his eyes was palpable, but I knew it was just because of what had happened. He just looked at me.

"Where is she?" I asked.

"In the back bedroom. We're leaving, Bella. I'm taking her away from here."

I pulled away from him completely, and started to walk to the door. "Not just yet, you aren't. I want to see her."

The coolness inside the house helped immensely, and so did the darkness of the hallway. All the lights were off, but daylight filtered in through the vast window. There was no noise, but there was something wrong with the air. It felt thick, and almost full of pain. I kept my hand on the wall when I could, but the others were right behind me. Seth was making sure I didn't fall down on my face.

I was not prepared when I turned into the bedroom. The horror I felt when I first saw her was pure and mind numbing.

Debbie was sprawled out on the bed, laying face up. She was hyperventilating to the point where every breath made her torso move in a constant momentum, and with every breath came a whimper. The sheets beneath her were soaked with perspiration, and the body on top of them was almost grotesque.

Every vein, every blood vessel or capillary inside her body had risen to the surface to mar the once sun-kissed skin she had once had. The rest of her was pale, but it was the patterns the vessels created that made it so horrifying just to look at her. All over her face, into her lips. Down her arms, and they seemed to stand out more on her legs.

Her legs were longer. She looked thinner. The white shirt she wore was completely soaked. Her old breasts were _gone_. But she wasn't that flat chested.

She would like that. She would like that they wouldn't hurt her anymore.

Her hair was soaking wet but her hair color seemed be changing along with the rest of her. It was darker. It was swept back away from her face.

Her body was a kiln. She was cooking on the inside; hardening and transforming into something that would be so very strong, and graceful, when she always had plenty of grace to begin with.

I went around the bed, looking at the map of veins on her body, watching every breath as she sucked it in and it left her. Her eyelids were closed. The pattern of vessels made them look bruised. I sat down beside her.

"She's in a place right now where she can look past the pain, but she's not coherent," Garrett said quietly. But at the precise moment she heard his voice, she opened her eyes.

They looked like mine. They were filled with blood, and her pupils were dilated. Her whimpers picked up. Garrett grabbed her hand and she quieted. I wasn't so sure she could see him, because her eyes seemed to search.

He sat down beside her on the other side. Alice and Seth were still beside the door. I grabbed Debbie's other hand. She flinched at first, but then her hand gripped mine painfully. It was _cold_.

She was strong already. Getting stronger.

"She's burning." The tears were starting to blind me, but her head turned towards my voice. "Deb?"

She screamed. It wasn't that loud. Her vocal chords were raw.

Garrett became a little unglued. He fussed over her, shooshing her. She turned into him, like a child looking to a parent who could take the pain away.

It was very unsettling. I had caused this. I pulled my hand back, not so sure if she wanted to hold it.

"I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry."

"It's not your fault," Garrett mumbled, but he wouldn't look at me. He just looked at Deb and he petted her, taking a wet rag and washing her face. Tears were in the corners of her eyes, but there wasn't enough to let them fall.

Watching him with her, and with the way she had reacted, I knew there was nothing I could do. No amount of begging or planning would sway his decision to take her. Alice had probably known the same thing I figured out for myself. While they might not have blamed me, the time had been tumultuous and traumatic, and the events something I had directly caused. They need time to come to terms with it, just like I wanted time to try and repair it.

I couldn't fix a thing. 'I'm sorry' only got you so far. I sat there and cried, for all it was worth. I had lost them both.

Garrett took my hand at some point, and I looked at him.

"It's not your fault. But we can't stay here," he said thickly and quietly. "I'm taking her home with me. She's going to have a lot to learn. A lot to deal with. I can't do that here, with you."

I nodded at him, and wiped my tears away. "Where will you take her?"

He smiled, the red in his eyes was dark, but kind. "Vermont for now, and then where ever life takes us. But we will see you again. You have my word."

I nodded at him. "You better come find us. Even if she wants to eat me." I tried to smile, but the blubbers wouldn't let me. Garrett's lips just tightened in a half grin.

A few sobs later I asked him, "Will you wait until Peter and Jasper come home?"

Garrett was wiping down her chest. Direct eye contact was a problem for the both of us, but he looked at me and then glanced over his shoulder at Alice and Seth while he spoke.

"Did they get him?" Anger flashed in his eyes. He was talking about Carlos.

"Yes. Alice said they're on their way home. They'll be home in an hour or so." I answered.

He looked back down at Deb. It was obvious that she now owned his heart. But that wasn't really true, he had given it to her the moment they met.

"No. We're taking her car. I don't know how often I'll have to stop. I want to get there. But you tell him I said thank you, for everything he's done for me."

"He'd want to say goodbye, Garrett. Can't you stay, just a little while longer?"

His lips tightened, he looked me in the eye. There was still kindness there, but there was a something else. I really couldn't tell what it was, but so much had happened that feelings were misplaced. Feelings that no one wanted to have. Not all them were for me alone.

"No."

It was just one word that struck that chord in me. My own anger, my own disappointment in myself, my own need to have him take her and leave me to my life. I had lost them.

I scooted forward and leaned down to kiss Deb's cheek, over and over again.

"I love you. I'll miss you. Be good to him."

I got up from the bed. That knot of energy, anger, and disappointment was sitting in my goddamn throat, but I turned my back on them, only to stop and turn because I realized I wasn't quite done with Garrett yet.

"Garrett, where's the chest?"

My abrupt departure had been shocking and hurtful enough for him. He didn't want to hurt my feelings, just like I didn't want hurt his. But I was going to, because he had been my friend, too.

Still, the recognition of what I was asking for was in his eyes as they widened, and in his stature as he stood up stiffly and walked towards me. He was speechless. I was getting off on it. I had enough physical and emotional pain inside me to last a lifetime. I only wanted to share it.

He walked right up to me.

"Where the chest?" I asked again.

Alice and Seth walked further into the room. Garrett glanced at her.

"She knows everything," Alice told him quietly.

He just looked at her and me, the disbelief in his eyes seemed to plead. "Bella,"

I slapped him across the face. His head actually flowed with it because he hadn't seen it coming, or maybe he just _let_ himself flow with it. He growled short, and he didn't look at me as his lips tightened.

Seth came up and stood beside my right side.

My good hand tingled but my left shoulder ached with new purpose. I tried to ignore it, and my determination won.

"You broke your promise to me. You were _my_ friend too," I scathed out at him. The anger was bubbling over, and I was glad. "Where's the chest?"

But I understood completely why he had broken his promise. A promise of loyalty he made the first day we met. It was the same with Garrett as it was with Alice, Jasper, and _Peter_. I just drew the short stick, without drawing a stick at all.

Choices were a _bitch_. My bitterness was coming back, full force.

Garrett just looked at me. I ignored the deep sorrow in his eyes.

"It's in the crawlspace, below the bedroom closet."

I took one last look at Deb, and I turned to walk out of the room. On the inside, I felt like I was dying.

Seth and Alice did not follow. I heard hushed whispers as I walked into the bedroom I shared with Peter, only glancing at the closet as I made my way to the bathroom.

There was a dirty, black, t-shirt laying on the bed, but he had made it.

My head was pounding. I got into the medicine cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Tylonol. I swallowed four, and I leaned down into the sink and washed my face.

Tension boil in the pit of my stomach smelling that water. Peter's water came from a well. It reminded me of the water in that cistern.

It was unsettling. I never wanted to see that place again. I never wanted to associate anything with it, ever again. I would though, whenever I would think about my mother. It was the last time I saw her. But she wasn't dying in a hospital bed, she was still living on.

I dried my face and looked into the mirror. Right into the eyes of a stone-faced Garrett.

"I deserved that. I deserve worse. You are my friend, too."

Any and all control just flew out the window with my fucking sanity. I had been broke down so goddamn much, I had to rely on the efforts of others to keep the rest of me together. To keep me reminded of all that I held dear. Those I had cussed and hated at some points; but at some points they had done the same. Still, they were those that I loved. I was at my worst and my best, all at the same time.

I stayed inside his arms, because he was my friend. Anything else just wouldn't have been right.

It wasn't 'Goodbye'.

It was 'I'm sorry'. It was 'take care of her'. It was a promise that wouldn't be broken. 'We will meet again'.

God, if I had had any sense about me, I would have figured out that Garrett knew what was coming long before I did.

He left me in the bathroom with a kiss on the cheek. Only when I composed myself did I walk out, just as Seth and Alice walked in.

Garrett and Debbie were gone.

The house was quiet. The air thinned. Alice just stared at me with pity inside her eyes, while the rest of her was stoic. Seth said nothing at all, and he glanced between the closet and myself.

He hunched his shoulders at me, and went for it the same time I did. The pain was catching up with me. Or maybe death was. My brain felt like it was being squeezed again. But I was able to ignore it for the most part.

The crawlspace in the closet was underneath Peter's spare hikers, his cowboy boots, and his dress loafers. There was only a small, brass knob in the plank flooring that could be used as a handle, but once Seth pulled it, the spring loaded trapdoor just popped right up, with no effort at all.

Seth was still favoring his arm. He had put it back into the sling while we were still in the van, but it was out again.

It was a typical crawlspace, built into the foundation. About three feet down, and three feet wide. Dark as motherfucking hell. He got down on his hands and knees and leaned inside.

And he just looked. His head turned another fraction and he looked some more.

"Well?"

"Dude, there's a fucking swan on it."

"That's it," I told him.

He raised up a little bit to glance back at me. I was standing behind him. "Get the fuck out of the way, Bella. I'm gonna lift it out."

Alice was behind me. "Let me do it. You'll hurt yourself."

"Seth, maybe you should let her."

Seth was dead set on pulling it out, but he groaned as looked back down. Alice and I moved to the other side of the closet, behind him.

He had to lean down and in. The chest was pushed back into the crawlspace. His ass was in the air, and his shorts weren't tight. Alice and I stared at his plumber's crack.

She laughed first.

Between the awkwardness of getting it out, and his groaning, and his crack showing, it was funny. Seth was either ignoring our short outbursts or not paying attention.

It wasn't a _bad_ plumber's crack. Seth was turning into one handsome man.

The air just felt lighter. It was only a little disturbing, because I was so sure this chest and it's contents would do me in.

Little by little, he pulled it out. It didn't look too heavy, not for Seth. Alice was looking at the intricacy of the carving on the top.

"It's kind of beautiful, in a narcissistic kind of way. Just like the plane was. Except he was utterly obsessed with you," Alice said, and she almost sounded...kind of jealous.

"What do you mean? What about the plane?"

She smiled kind of wryly. But Seth interjected.

"Wait. Didn't you ever see _it_?" He asked exaggeratedly.

"No. Peter had tried for weeks to get me to take a flight with him, but I never did. The last time I talked to him..."

I had to stop and think. Because the last conversation we had in regards to that plane, involved taking a flight up to Port Angeles to see my dad, and to tell him the truth.

Seth's face grew concerned. "What?"

I looked at him. It was when I was still hiding the truth from him. "After you got here, I called to tell him about what you told me about Jake and the Pack. I wanted to tell you the truth, Seth. I couldn't stand lying to you. But...anyways, there was a chance we were going to fly up and see my dad after you left Santa Fe. We would have told him about us, about getting married. And the rest of it too."

I looked at Seth meaningfully.

"About him? About vampires? About you?" Seth asked, shocked and surprised.

"Yeah."

He just stared at me, and I could tell he was holding something back. He was still crouched down on the floor, his hand on the chest.

My heart took off like a locomotive. "What? What is it?"

Seth's kept looking at me. "I want you to stay calm. What I'm gonna tell you...is going to freak you the fuck out," he said quietly, pausing. "Charlie knows everything. But not about Peter," he said calmly.

"_What?" _

Alice's arms ensnared my waist. Seth put his hand up, to stop me, to calm me down, I didn't really know what the fuck for.

"He knows. It's a long story, but he saw me phased. Mom and I told him _everything_. Even about you. He took it pretty well, he kind of figured out on his own that's why you took their leaving so hard. I won't lie, Bella. He's...disappointed with you. But, he understands too," Seth said as gently as possible.

"Oh, my God. What am I going to do? What am I going _to do!_? What is _he_ going to do!? When did he find out?!"

What was I going to do?

Seth was up with his palm on my cheek trying to get me to calm down. "Relax. He's not going to do anything. I don't think he is. He's Charlie, Bella. He's gonna wait until you come clean about it. But you're not gonna do it. You can't worry about no one but you and Peter right now. I'm gonna tell him what happened. I'm gonna tell him everything. You can't ask your dad to accept this right now. You're gonna have to give him time."

The tears were falling, the sobs were uncontrollable. "But I can't lose him. I have to tell him. When did he find out?"

"A few days ago. The last time you talked to him on the phone, he knew. He's gonna always love you, but it's a lot to take in. You know that. You're gonna let me take care of it. Okay? He still just wants you to be happy."

"But I've asked to much of you already. I can't let you do that," I cried.

Seth eyes were getting watery, and his face twisted. "No you haven't. And I'm not giving you a choice, dammit," he laughed and smiled. "You do what I say," he threatened as he laughed. "I'm promise, it'll be okay. I'll make it that way."

I could only nod. There _was_ nothing I could do. Seth was right. Charlie was Charlie. He was hell to deal with if you fucked with his kids, and it would be hell to tell him everything. Hell to tell him how I lied to him all this time. No child who loves their parents ever want to hear them say how disappointed they were with them, even if the love didn't end, or if you did what you did for all the right reasons.

I wasn't strong enough to do it. I probably wasn't strong enough to do it before Maria had entered our lives. Hiding the truth was so much easier.

Between the stress, the brain squeeze, and all the crying I had done in the fifteen minutes before, I had another episode. Seth picked me up and sat me on the bed, while Alice got a cold towel and a wash rag out of the bathroom. The towel went around the backside of my neck; the rag washed my face and blew my nose. My vision was still blurry in my right eye, my left was straining. It felt better just leaving them closed.

Seth's arms were still around my waist, he was rubbing the middle of my back as I finally gained some sense of control.

He just looked at me, the concern tangible and worrisome. "Okay?"

I was about to tell him it wasn't, but Seth didn't let me finish. He was damn well determined to drill it into my head.

"It'll be okay. I promise."

I nodded at him. "Okay."

He looked at Alice seriously sitting next to me as he got up. He went into the closet to pull the chest out.

I looked at her. Her face was forlorn, emotion was swimming in her eyes. "It'll be alright. _I_ promise."

She smiled in a way that I knew she knew more than she was saying.

"You're holding something back." I told her, I had the involuntary shudders.

"Of course I am," she said indifferently, before her face softened. "But you should trust him. He _is_ going to make everything alright."

"Just 'alright'?"

She looked at me with question. "Can you really ask for more than that?"

"No, but I want more than that."

Her smile was bittersweet. "I know. We all want more. It's in our nature. I want my best friend back. I want _you_ back," she said forcefully, her face and her eyes swirling with emotion. "Jasper wants Peter back. _And_ you," she shrugged. "But it's not going to happen right now. We can wait. We will," she said confidently.

"I'm not too happy with your mate right now. He tried to bully me."

Alice chuckled evilly. "Oh, I'm not either. Trust me, when he gets home, Carlisle is going to have to use his colorectal skills to remove my foot from his _ass_. Overbearing motherfucker," she mumbled.

I didn't want Jasper to have to deal with any repercussions, from Alice or Peter. He had done what I asked him to do. And I already knew he was just trying to protect Peter. But I would have a conversation with him about his influence.

Especially his influence on Peter.

"Really?" I asked her, I was pretty sure she knew how I felt.

She looked at me and grinned a little sadly. "No. I imagine he'll beat himself up before I ever get a chance to. But it makes for a nice visual, doesn't it?"

We both laughed quietly. She looked at me questionably. "You know...Peter?"

"I know. He's just protecting him. You both were." And I had to look away, because it still burned.

She took my chin and made me look at her. She shook her head. The amber in her eyes swirled. "And you, too. I'm sorry. I really wish I could change..."

I put my hand over hers, and didn't let her finish. "I know. You had let it be. You had to let it...happen." I shrugged, but I forgot I shouldn't do that.

Seth was standing with his legs apart and his hands on hips waiting outside the closet, when we looked at him. He still had the sling wrapped around his neck, but he wasn't using it.

The chest was sitting in front of him.

"I can feel the love. It's all nice and all, but let's open this bitch up."

Panic was all I felt, and I knew from the way my heart felt heavier in my chest, that he was close. Closer. It had always been there, that constant pull, but until I focused on it, it was unnoticed.

It had become a part of me. Just like my fingers and my toes, my hands and my legs. Or my mind and my heart.

I looked at Alice. "How much time do we have?"

She looked at the clock on Peter's bed side table. It was 12:42PM.

"About forty minutes, give or take a few seconds."

"It's locked. Do you know where he could have hid the key?" Seth asked.

"Um..I think I do. Hold on."

I stood up to a head rush, but I stumbled forward and walked out of the bedroom. Seth was going to follow but I just waved him off.

Down the hallway, through the kitchen and the living room, and over to the bookshelves.

Would he had made it so easy?

Hans Christian Anderson. The Ugly Duckling. I pulled it off the shelf and put it on the rocking chair to look inside. I looked at the back and front covers, and flipped through the pages.

Nothing.

The binding cracked. The pages were starting to come undone at the top. I shut the book and looked at the binding.

At the hole at the top of the book in the binding. And nothing inside it.

I took the book with me. Seth was down on his knees, running his finger over the carved duck as I walked back in the bedroom.

"It's not where..."

I heard a tinkling coming from the dresser underneath the window. Louder than it usually tinkled when it was hit with a draft.

There was something hanging down from the birdhouse on the miniature wind chime. It was hitting the striker. A calling.

Charlotte. She loved birds. My heart thumped loudly inside my chest.

_Here you go._

I didn't actually hear her, but I had a feeling that was what she would have said. Peter wouldn't have left it there, I was sure of that.

"Did you find it?" Seth asked.

But I didn't answer him until I walked over to the dresser, to retrieve the key hanging from the birdhouse. A skeleton key on a little ball chain.

A cool draft blew by my face. The windows were air-tight, and the vents were on the other side of the room.

"Yes."

I turned around and looked at Alice who was sitting on the bed, typing on her phone.

"What are you doing?"

She threw her phone on the nightstand. "Texting Jasper. I told him Garrett left, and to try and convince Peter to stop in Albuquerque to pick up his truck. It'll give us some more time."

She only glanced at me. She got up and walked over to the chest.

I walked back over to Seth and the chest and handed him the key. He raised the heart cover on the latch and put the key inside.

"You wanna do the honors?" He asked as he looked at me.

"No, just open it."

He did just that. The lock mechanism popped, and he raised the lid.

At first, I just saw the books. The journals. Journals that were thin with brown leather covers. There was brass plates on the front of them. A swan, lifting into flight from a patch of water. The wings were spread, each tip touched the sides of the book. They were very detailed, and kind of pretty. The other plate at the top of the journals, was just a simple brass plate that had been etched.

The one I saw first was 'Year 4'.

Everything had shifted inside. There was three brown, leather scrapbooks, a Ziploc bag with a legal size envelope and another journal tucked inside, a couple of aviation books – which were textbooks – and a large sketchpad. There was a red piece of construction paper packed with papers that were coming out. Drawings. There was some little folded up pieces of paper scattered about, and the black pouch with Charlotte's picture, and a bag with something black and made of cloth inside.

But it was all pretty much sideline. The thing that had my attention the most, was inside a Space Bag, laying right on top.

It was smiling at me. Through the bag. It took me a few seconds to realize what I was seeing.

My childhood had come back to haunt me in a wonderful way. I remembered my mother cleaning my bedroom, arguing with her about what to take and what not to take, and boxing up old toys and dolls up to sell at a garage sale. A teddy bear was sacrificed because I just didn't have use for him anymore.

Nesty.

I remembered my mother telling me I named Nesty when I was two. I tore the bow around his neck off the first day I got him, and I used to sing nonsense to him and talk to him. I took him to bed every night, until I was eight or nine. She told me that when I was a toddler, I spoke to that teddy bear more than I had talked to her.

My dad had bought him for me while I was still an infant. My mom always thought I had been talking and singing to Nesty, because I missed my dad.

Oh, the memories! They were there. They had just been hidden away, inside the recesses of my mind.

I remembered him. Why did I get rid of it? Why did Renee? It had been a wonderful piece of my childhood, but I knew the answer to that.

She couldn't keep everything. I still had the baby blanket I went home from the hospital in, my first pair of shoes, and all my baby teeth were inside my baby book. I still had artwork and stories I had written and drew in Kindergarten. All of which I inherited after she died. I had a fishing pole and a tackle box from Charlie that I wouldn't let her sell, in case I ever went fishing in Arizona. Which I never did.

Seth was staring back at me warily, because I started to cry and laugh at the same time.

Alice's grin was so big her face looked like it was going to crack. "What?"

I pointed to it. "That's my teddy bear," I laughed. "That's Nesty. He took my teddy bear."

I was almost in full blown hysterics, and I couldn't see because the tears were blinding. If they thought I was insane, they were right.

"It fell on the floor when he first saw you. He picked it up, and he gave it back to you," Alice said, and the emotion inside her eyes looked like it could brim over.

The amazement slammed into me. Still I laughed, but I cried too.

"My...God."

My face hurt. But it was because I was smiling so much. My eyes stung, but it was because I was crying, and happy.

Seth had picked it up and turned the bag over. "There's a note inside. Open it and read it."

He stuffed it in my good arm. Alice pulled apart the top; air hissed inside and the bag expanded. She pulled him and the note out, let the bag fall on the floor, and let me have him. Nesty was a black teddy bear. The brown pads of his feet were missing because I had tore them off when I was a baby. Other than that, he was in perfect shape.

He smelled old. Maybe even a little toxic.

There was just a yellow sticky note inside the bag. Nothing big. He wrote it small. He had wrote it when I was twelve. I had to strain to read it.

_**May 10, 1997**_

_**Saved from certain destruction **_

_**by one Matt Snyder, age 14, **_

_**who bought him for a quarter, **_

_**and who took me for $ 40.25.**_

_**Nesty is mine now, but you can **_

_**borrow him anytime you want.**_

_**P.**_

And I had said that Peter had took him from me. Which certainly hadn't been the case.

I was sure it was worth every penny. Nesty was his, and I would be sure to do that. Borrow him. For _life_.

Alice flitted to the other side of the bed, and came back with some Kleenex. I put Nesty on the bed.

Seth was on his knees, organizing the journals according to year on the rim of the chest when he lifted up another bag.

"There's another _memento'_ bag here. Not sure you're gonna like this too much," Seth muttered the last part.

It was another space bag, but the air hadn't been vacuumed out. Only as I walked back over did I notice the face on the picture inside. And there was more pictures. I took the bag out of his extended arm.

It was the picture I took of Edward, the day of my birthday. His eyes were warm amber, and he was smiling. It was the picture I took in the kitchen. I remembered the others too. I didn't need to see them, I could remember easily what his face had looked like then.

The CD Edward and Alice had made, the plane tickets to Jacksonville from Esme and Carlisle, was all in the bag. It was all the things that I had thought Edward had taken from me when he left. But there was also a black t-shirt in the bag; and a folded piece of notebook paper, when I turned it over.

I didn't know how to feel about that bag. The only question in my mind was why did Peter have all _that_ stuff?

"Oh, my God." It was Alice, and it was just a whisper. She was as still as a statue, until she sighed, closed her eyes, and looked away ashamed.

"Seth, get me the note, please?"

Seth took the bag back as he stood up. He opened it up and gave me the note. "What is all this stuff?" He asked as he started to rummage through the bag.

"The pictures are mine. I took them with a camera my dad bought for me for my eighteenth birthday. The CD is some of Edward's compositions, and a lullaby he composed. The plane tickets...they're from Esme and Carlisle. They were birthday presents. The shirt, I don't know. Edward took all this stuff when he left me."

That bag created emotions that I didn't want to have. Instead of happiness, there was frustration. Why had Edward needed to take those things away from me? How could he have been so stupid to think that I could pretend they never existed? And how the hell did Peter get them back?

I unfolded the note by shaking it apart. It was written small and in pencil – Peter's handwriting – and on college-ruled notebook paper. I could make out the words, and my head was pulsing.

"Seth, read it. I can't."

Seth took the sheet of paper out of my hand.

"_**September 27, 2006**_

_**You went back to school today. I stayed in town to watch you. I find it hard to put into words what I feel at this point, because the pain inside you goes so deep that it affects me. I want to kill him for you, but you would never want that. I want to tell you I'm sorry you had to go through it. I want to tell you that I wish I was there for you. But I'm not sorry, and I can't be there for you. I do wish I could be. It's one more step closer to the day you'll enter my life, but even I am suffering for my greed. **_

_**He gave up the best thing in the world, but he did so under foolish notions. He lied to you and promised you things he could never give you, because your heart won't ever let you forget. I wish he could have understood. I wish he could experience what I had. **_

_**I got to touch you. I got to feel your heart beat next to mine, and it was the best. You smelled like rain and pine. You smelled as you felt. Tears with a deep yearn for love lost. I wish you wouldn't feel that way. **_

_**I wish you would eat more. I wish you could see that the act isn't fooling your dad, and I wish you would just try harder for him. No good man can stand to see his child suffer, and Charlie has suffered enough. I know it will get better, but you just weren't in his life enough. I say this because you will eventually realize it for yourself. But your parents are just as much to blame for that.**_

_**I can't wait for you to start living again. I can't wait until you find the Sun again. Just not the one you would think would be yours. These things of yours were put by him under the floorboard underneath your bed. I'm sure he knows it was stupid and childish, but I also think he did it because he didn't want to leave you without a reminder of himself. He made you a promise, and he will keep it. But it was foolish, because you will never forget. Still, I think it helped him. **_

_**I'm going to put my shirt in the bag, because I want to remind you of me, and I want to remind you I was there. It has your tears on it. That's pretty fucking foolish too. **_

_**I kept these other things for you because you should cherish and appreciate the time you had with him. He was your first love and you both learned how to love from the other, Bella. He was a good man and he protected you when I didn't. When I couldn't. When it comes to loyalty and devotion and care for another, he is perhaps the finest man ever. I won't ever let you forget him, because I will never forget him. Love him still, just love me more.**_

_**My heart,  
**_

_**P."**_

There was simply no words.

Really, there wasn't. No one could say anything. His heart was in that first letter. His honesty, and the things he yearned for. Which all had to do with me. And, it was a little bit humbling for me, and I knew he wrote that he was foolish too because I needed to take a step back and look at the reasons Edward left, and hid the reminders.

But Peter was wrong. _He_ was the finest man ever. Just as loyal and devoted, and he cared for another like no one had ever had. I should be so lucky that it was me. And when Seth choked up with what he wrote about Charlie, it filled my heart, just a little bit more.

The most startling realization I had though, was the fact that he had been in my room. And I had no doubt, that the piece of paper the note was written on came from an old notebook on my old desk. He had written it there.

I could picture it in my head.

_Oh..._

I looked at all the pictures in the bag. I remembered the lullaby. I smelled the shirt, and I could swear it still smelled just like him.

A part of me would always love Edward, but I loved Peter, with all my heart. His heart was mine, and mine was his.

Alice had lost control and had cried quietly because the guilt inside her was eating her alive. Guilt for Edward. Guilt she would always have. She cried into my shoulder.

The thing that bothered me the most, was what he had to had gone through seeing my relationship with Edward and Jake. And I wished he would have done something to stop my relationship with Jake. But I already understood why he hadn't.

Seth helped me put everything back inside the bag. We had moved over to sit on the bed when Alice lost control. I couldn't hold her up.

My physical problems were taking their toll, but there was no time to waste. Time wasn't on my side again.

Seth was folding back up the letter when he finally spoke. "There's another bag, you know. You want that next or do you want the books?" He glanced at Alice, who still had her forehead down on my left shoulder and whose left leg was wrapped around my backside.

I sighed and ended up coughing because my throat was filled with emotional gunk. "Wow. I don't know. My back hurts. Bring all of it...Alice?"

She raised her head, only to look at me with just a little composure.

"I can't speak for Edward, but don't ever question whether or not you did the right thing. Because you did. I won't ever forget it."

Different shades of amber and onyx swirled inside her eyes, and the venom looked thick. She smiled, but it was half-assed. "He won't ever see it that way."

I looked at the headboard. "Scoot up. I think your wrong, but I also think that you can't stop the inevitable. Somehow...someway...I would have always found Peter. Or he would have found me," I shrugged, and pain shot through my neck. "Edward will realize it, too. You should to tell them all. You should tell them everything."

The thought entered my mind with such conviction, that I knew it was right. The Cullens all needed a good healthy dose of divinity. Especially Edward.

God was out there, and he didn't discriminate. Vampires existed for a reason; and it was whatever he damn well deemed them for.

Alice didn't say anything. She scooted up towards the middle of the bed while I took Peter's side. My broken clavicle was really doing a number on my shoulder, my neck, and my back, and I needed to put it against something. Seth picked up the chest and brought it closer to the bed. He pulled out all the journals, the sketchpad, some folded pieces of paper, the scrapbooks, a bag with a letter and a journal inside it, and Charlotte's picture. I crossed my legs, and he put the scrapbooks closest and the other bag in my lap.

He was turning over the little black bag in his hand. "Wanna see what this is?"

"You can look at it. Peter already showed it to me. It's a picture of Charlotte. Just be careful with it."

It was just a sense I was picking up, but Seth seemed just as curious as I was. I smiled as he opened it up to pull it out.

I looked at the bag with the letter and the journal inside. I had to psych myself up for another letter, so I reach for one of the scrapbooks. Seth handed Alice the picture and sat down in the middle of the bed, just looking at the books.

"Go ahead, read something. I'm not going to have time to read all of this before he gets back, and you two will probably have to read it anyway. Peter writes small."

Alice went for the first journal. Seth had put the journals in two piles: Years 1-10 and years 11-20. He took 11-20. I opened up the scrapbook.

I was looking at a ridge line. It took me a moment to figure out, it was Peter's ridge line – minus the house. Pictures of different angles covered the first two pages; then the next three were sketches of the house, complete with measurements. Drawings of roof extensions, foundation perimeters, and even trees that would need cut down. There was the contract to buy the land, bills for pouring the foundations, materials, a construction company invoice for digging the well, a certificate for well rights, it was never ending. The pictures inside the book were all related to the house. The foundation, the frame, the pouring of the walls, to the final stages, and completion.

Most of the pictures of the construction had been taken at night, there was very few pictures in actual daylight. Everything was dated, some things noted. 'Foundation fucked up. Off by one-eighth of an inch in the southwest corner', or, 'Three wet tile saws later, master bath finished'. And there was even a picture of what looked like a destroyed and dysfunctional saw. It took him five months to complete the house; from August of 1990 to January 1991.

Alice was both reading and watching me flipping through the scrapbook. "He's really proud of this house. Kind of pack rat, isn't he?" She asked, but she laughed too.

I scoffed at her. "Have you seen his office?" I could only make quotation marks with one hand. "You should have seen the garage, before he cleaned it out."

She smiled, and her voice chimed again. There was just the slightest undertone of guilt still inside her eyes. "I have."

I was sure she was answering to both. I look at her journal. Alice was speed reading. "What are you reading?"

She shrugged. "It's the first year of your life, and the very first pages he wrote. Peter witnessed your birth, you know. It's kind of beautiful. You want me to read it to you?" Alice was already flipping to the beginning of the journal. Book one.

"Yes, read it."

"_**September 13, 1987 **_

_**( February 3, 1991)**_

_**I never witnessed a child been born before. You have to understand that at the time I witnessed your birth, it didn't make sense. I'll explain to you why when I can. These journals will service as a reminder, but I think it'll be more than that. So where to start...Wow! I'm actually nervous about this! I guess it's because you're going to read it. So I guess I'll start with me. You won't like it if I make it just about you, so yeah, I'll put stuff about me in here, too. **_

_**I'm finished with the house now, and for the exception of a few minor setbacks, it really came out beautiful. It still needs some work, but it's sturdy and she's got no drafts. I'm going to look into taking some night classes out at the college, but I'm thinking about starting up my own business sometime in construction. I think I have a knack for it. I just don't quite know how I'm going to do it. By the way, I built this house for you. And well, I needed a place to live. You're going to love the sunsets, and the mountains are just beautiful. **_

_**Anyways, the day you were born. That was the day Charlotte died, and the first time I saw you. Actually, you were still inside your momma's belly, so you can pretty much guess what I saw. Childbirth is such an assault, yet it's also kind of a miraculous event. At any rate, you came into the world and it's never been the same for me since. **_

_**I should probably tell you about her, about Charlotte. She died an hour before your were born. I'm still trying to wrap my head around all this, in a way. I've dealt with it for awhile now, but now you're real for me. It's hard to explain. It hard to know what I should feel for you right now. You're still just a kid who's learning to pedal. I wish I could live next door to you and watch you grow up. Kids are fun to watch, and you'd be extra special to watch, because of who you're going to be to me someday. What I feel for you now is just so profound, it's hard to describe. I'd ask Quil Ateara about how he thinks he's going to cope with the bad times and how he feels, but there's just one problem. He's only one and I'm supposed to be his mortal enemy. Or immortal enemy. I guess that's two problems. Either way, it's miraculous and altering. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. **_

_**God, I just read those last few lines and I really need to find the words that describe what I feel for you, because that sounds pretty lame. **_

_**But yes, watching you grow up would be the highlight of my days. I probably wouldn't let you fall off your bike, or trip on the sidewalk, or play with Connor Fleishmann, and I'd probably kill Mr. Wilkenson's dog. Damn, I so badly want to tell you and your Mom that you need to stay away from that bastard, because he's going to bite your right hand in another month. Two days after you're going to have go to the hospital for blood poisoning. Your mom's going to blow a blood vessel when you get bit. **_

_**I keep getting off track. The day you were born, was the beginning of my life. A new one. For that I will always love her. And I'll love you too. **_

_**6lbs., 6oz., 19 inches long. You had a full head of brown hair. Charlie thought you looked like your mom, and Renee thought you looked like your dad. Your dad walked you around the room while they cleaned up your momma, and that was the first time the two of you ever danced. You just stared around the room, while you farted inside his hands. You had bad gas. It messed you up for the first six months of your life..."**_

Alice was laughing just a little. He was right. Both my parents told me I had issues with gas when I was just a baby.

"He was really nervous when he started writing. See? Look." Alice showed me the journal. His handwriting wasn't that clean, and the blue pen had bled extra blue ink where he paused.

But hearing about me wasn't what had me in tears. It was the way he worked around talking about Charlotte. He just couldn't do it, not even then. Not even in a journal.

"It's beautiful. He's right. I did have bad gas. My mom told me I used to scream, and that my dad was the only one that could calm me down. Did he write in it about every day? Of my life?"

"No, not everyday. Just the things that stuck out the most. Like when you rolled over, or when you had colic. Did you know that when you were two months old, your mom used to put you down in front of the TV so you could watch Wheel of Fortune? You liked to watch the colors on the wheel."

Yes. I remembered that. She told me in one of those, 'When you were a baby...' talks. "Yes. She told me."

Alice smiled, and her eyes were bittersweet. "He talks about himself too. There's a lot in here about your parents. Especially Charlie. When he would come home at night, you were daddy's little girl. It's all pretty much Peter's thoughts. Here, listen to this..."

She flipped forward about twenty pages, and then back another five.

"_**February 26, 1988**_

_**(February 22, 1991)**_

_**Your mother was too selfish. I'm not human, but it is my belief that when you have children, you put your children first and put your own goddamn life on hold. The things you should want and need should bear no consequence, or at the very least, they come second. You were just a baby, but I resent her because she couldn't work with her ambitions and issues for the needs of her child. Every baby needs a father just as much as they need their mother. Charlie calmed you. He bounced you and walked with you through Colic or bad gas. He danced with you every night while you puttered into his hand, and you always fell asleep. Your mom's answer for everything was Simethicone drops and the bouncer on it's highest setting. Sometimes little girls just wanted to dance with their fathers, so they can forget all their problems. I wish your mother would have recognized this.**_

_**You had a very special attachment to your dad as a baby. It was kind of weird. You always knew the moment he had come home from work, and you didn't even need to hear him or see him. You would kick your feet, and start cooing for him to pick you up. God, you were so cute, and you were a good baby, too. Renee could see it, but it didn't matter. And Charlie didn't fight for either of you hard enough. I resent him too at times, but damn it, he was right too. No child should live without their mother, and you couldn't live without Renee. I cannot blame him for that."**_

"It's when she left him. When Renee left Charlie."

Alice sighed. "No, not quite. Just a little before that. Your parents were having problems. The day you took your first step, you lived in Riverside. We were still with Peter in February," Alice said solemnly. "He was having visions of you since the day you were born. He wasn't in the hole, then. These are dated twice. The first date is the date he's talking about. The second date is the day he wrote it."

I had to think back to my conversation earlier with Alice. And then I remembered what Peter had told me. I hadn't paid attention to the date Alice had read from. My parents had been young when I was born; one more stable than the other. They were poor, and Renee had dreams. I had been a surprise, but I had been a welcome one, according to them. Mom wanted to move back in with my grandparents, who were living in Riverside then.

Things happen. People change. I don't think I wouldn't have wanted her to stay with him, just for me.

At that point in time, however, I was only focused on what Alice had said. Peter wasn't in the hole when he first saw me.

"_...I kind of realized that Jasper was right, but not before I slaughtered an entire family of four. Only then did I realize I had become my own worst enemy. I literally fell into a hole, deep in the earth, and...and I had an epiphany. I grieved for my wife. I knew that...that if heaven existed, she would always be with me somehow..."_

I had been the epiphany.

"Wait. Go forward. See if you can find something about falling into the hole. How old was I then?"

She flipped through the pages. "I already did. You were in Riverside then. The visions were sporadic, and he didn't know what to make of them. You know, there were times when Jasper thought he was thinking about Charlotte, because he would become...abnormally calm. But it never lasted for long. Here it is. June 3, 1988. This was written in 1991. You fell into a pool at a barbeque. He fell into the hole. You were almost nine months old. That's when he saw...the rest of your life. He was down there for..."

"Two years," I told her. "Charlotte said that."

"Yes. Even he thought he was crazy before that. He thought he was dreaming. The only thing is, he couldn't sleep." Alice shrugged.

Seth made a sound that sounded like a laugh. An evil one. We both looked at him. Seth had three journals open.

"What are you reading?"

"Book 19_. _ It's when you left Forks. You know, you might not want to read some of this shit. It's not good. But it's insightful. There's a lot shit about Jake...and Peter wanting to kill him...and you being stupid, but um...September 28, 2006. You remember where you were?"

I knew exactly how Peter felt about me and my relationship with Jake. And about the choices I made. But I remembered that date. Right away.

"I was here. I just got to Santa Fe. I wasn't going to stay here. I wasn't sure where I was going. My truck...broke down."

I thought I knew what was coming and he didn't even say the words yet.

I narrowed my good eye at Seth, he had shitty smile on his face. "What did he do?"

Seth found a passage. "Okay, this was written on the day. I think..."

"_**September 28, 2006**_

_**You're going to kill me. But I beg of you to think rationally about it before you try. The truck is mine, after all. I stole it from a Mexican cartel I killed and dropped it off in Forks seventeen years ago. It is mine, and I broke it. It needed a new clutch and transmission anyway. I really wish you wouldn't cry about it, but I know that's not the only thing you're crying about. This is where you belong. I'm happy, and in time, you will be too. It'll be in a storage facility in La' Cienega after I buy it from the junkyard. I'm going to have it restored. I did what I had to do, Bella. Just think about it before you do something you're only going to regret later."**_

The thought was a little horrific. Not just the fact that he broke my truck, but the fact that truck had been waiting for me for over seventeen years. And what about the towing fee I had to fork over to tow the piece of shit away?

"It's_ my_ truck. Charlie bought it for me, fair and square. That son of a bitch."

Alice and Seth looked at me like I was crazy, and then they started to laugh.

"Oh, my God. This is fucking insane!" Alice said, laughing in disbelief and shock.

Seth quieted. "Well, the good news is he said he was going to have it restored. So, you still have a truck. Man...this is just fucking unbelievable."

Was is so bad, that I couldn't help but smile? _My_ truck was still around. Somewhere.

I started going through the sketchbook, and it was amazing itself. Sketches of me as I grew. From when I was three, all the way up until the very last year, when I was twenty. Some of them were just of my hands. One of them, the last one was of me sitting on my back porch, reading a book.

One of them – the most emotional – was drawn on November 16, 2007, the day of my mothers' funeral. It's depiction was of my backside in the dress I had wore as I leaned against her casket inside the funeral parlor before her ceremony. But he embellished it somewhat. There was flowers in my left hand getting ready to fall, with a chain and a heart, and a swan on top of it. There was also a poem written underneath.

_**She hears the song of the mute**_

_**but she does not fear death**_

_**It sings the song of the lord**_

_**with her last breath **_

"_**Worry not" he sings**_

_**and she could see**_

_**Her life wept for her**_

_**but did not fall on knees **_

_**She soared into the sky**_

_**and heaven abound**_

_**She watched her daughter cry**_

_**but she heard no sound**_

"_**Worry not, daughter,**_

_**I'm in Heaven, my dear"**_

_**But still her daughter wept **_

_**because she could not hear**_

The poem itself was a direct reflection of a part of my life with my mother. She researched our ancestry, our names, with cultures, and meanings. The mute swan was fabled to be utterly silent until death approaches, and then it sings and flies back to the God that it serves.

Oh, the bastard really knew how to strike a chord inside me. After all that had happened already, it was just another important piece of something extraordinary.

He loved her too.

When I couldn't hold it back, Seth reached for the sketchbook to see what my latest breakdown was all about. I wiped my face and I moved on to another scrapbook.

I opened the cover...and laughed.

Peter took pictures of himself. You could see part of his arm, as he extended the camera to snap the picture. One for each year, starting in 1990 and ending in 2008. All of them taken on various dates throughout the years. He took them outside on the deck, using the city and the forest below as a backdrop. He smiled in each one, his eyes honest and not troubled. The clothes changed, but that was it. He hadn't changed _one_ bit. The next set of pictures were pictures of my house. My house, the one on Eden Drive. The tree I planted and the rock garden didn't exist, and the front yard was just dirt. The next set was pictures of the pinnacle in Sandia, and the view.

I reached for the next scrapbook. Alice and Seth were very involved in reading, going through the journals left and right.

"What are you reading?" I asked the both of them.

"I just read about you falling off the slide. Really, you could have broken your neck. It was a twenty-five foot drop. He was mad at your mother because she wasn't watching you. Peter was hiding in the sewer. You...saw him? I mean, you _said _you dreamed he caught you. The way this reads, he wanted you to see him, but he didn't risk it," Alice said.

"I forgot about it actually, or you know, I just never thought about it. I remember falling, but I don't remember anything other than that. In the dream, I turned around and saw his face. But I don't remember actually doing that. I don't remember actually looking at him."

Alice smiled. "You didn't see him. He didn't let you. Here, listen to this..."

"_**You told your mother you landed on your feet. I realize you're only five, but really? That's okay, you're still a sweet, little girl. I wish I would have let you see me."**_

Alice and I were still laughing because he expected an awful lot out of me when I was five. But then I realized something.

"Wait, did he write that the day that it happened?"

She looked down at the journal. "I'd say yes. It's dated March 14, 1993. There's no other date. But the earlier stuff, that was all written after he got settled. You'll have to read them. But there's a lot of stuff in these about him too. What he was doing, things about the company. There was an outbreak of tornadoes in Oklahoma that year. The company wasn't started then, but he sold some designs to a construction company out there and that's when things really got started for him. You're really going to have to read them."

Seth piped up. "All this stuff here is a little bit of both. Bella...I hate to tell you this, but he really saw it all. I mean, he saw it _all_," Seth said exaggeratedly, but there was shock in him too. Seth was skipping around, reading from five different journals.

"Be a little more specific, Seth. What have you been reading?"

"I'm just reading the shit that involves you and Peter. I mean, you already know he was there when Edward left you. But he was also there the day you almost got hit with Tyler Crowley's van. The guy's got some dark thoughts. But I found this one piece...and I hate to tell you this, but..." Seth was ho-humming around. "Dude had access to your bathroom." He cringed, expecting the worse.

What?

"What?"

"He's right. In book two he dedicated a whole paragraph to you taking your diaper off and rubbing shit on the walls," Alice laughed, a little on edge.

I heard her, but I was still looking at Seth.

Seth gauged me, before he answered. "I'm gonna read you this, but just...keep an open mind. There's more after you moved to Santa Fe. I mean...it's some really personal stuff. But I'm gonna read you this. Just keep..." He didn't finish. He just sighed and looked down at the book. Whatever he was reading or had read had made him very uncomfortable.

"_**July 22, 2002**_

_**I made a convoluted decision last night to drive over and see you today. You went swimming with the twins and Courtney at the pool, then you washed your mother's car out in the driveway before the sun went down. I rage sometimes, Bella, at the attention you seem to get, but you either don't notice it, or you ignore it. You've never talked about it, so I don't know. I know they're just your friends, but Aaron and Keith enjoy the scenery just a little too much. **_

_**You're really growing up. The changes have been subtle the last few years, but they're changes nonetheless. And I find myself ashamed and embarrassed because I've admired the beauty of it – the beauty of you – for awhile now. In a platonic or almost a parental way, of course, but now it's really starting to get difficult. Don't freak out when you read this, it's just you're maturing, and beautiful. But that's why I made a convoluted visit. I wanted to see you with my own awake eyes.**_

_**Men shouldn't think of girls sexually, but that's kind of where I'm at. I'm not jacking off to the thought of you, or anything like that. You're only fourteen years old, going on fifteen. I made an agreement with myself to tell you everything I've felt inside these books, and that's what I'm doing. It's therapeutic. It helps with the madness when something's going bad with either you or myself, or going to go bad. In a couple more years, you're going to meet Edward and Jake, and I just don't know if I'm going to be able to handle it all. So maybe if I bitch at you, complain at you, or scream at you in these journals, I can get through it. **_

_**This is so fucking embarrassing, admitting it out for you to read one day, and that's why I don't make that many trips to see you now. It's enticing, I'm ashamed to say. Not just because you're growing out of the cuteness and into a beauty, but because I already love you, and I'm going to love you. It's a very intimate invasion of your privacy, and I really do hate that I was gifted with this shit. I shouldn't be growing physically attracted to you, but I am, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry I couldn't turn it off. But, I thank my lucky stars you're as self-conscious as you are, because I don't really think I could handle you being intimate with anyone at this point in your life. Not because of jealousy, but because paternally, you just aren't fucking ready. It's not like I feel like I'm your dad or anything, but I feel the need to say no sex until your 18, or you're going to meet me in the worst fucking way possible. It's not in your future until then anyway, but still.**_

_**'It's okay to look, but not touch', really falls within my perimeters right now, doesn't it? Because I've seen, I'm ashamed to admit. But I won't touch. Still, you're turning into a beauty.**_

_**Sorry."**_

"It's his most embarrassing moment. His most embarrassing moment was me, and seeing me..." Naked? "When I was just a girl," I told them. I was just guessing, but Peter still had never told me what his most embarrassing moment was.

"What do you mean?" Seth asked.

"Well, on our first date, we were playing twenty questions. I told him mine, but he wouldn't tell me his. I'm just guessing here," I shrugged, and that was pissing me off. I couldn't shrug.

"He's lying, though. He _so_ was jacking off to the thought of you," Alice said as she laughed.

"Why, did you see it?"

"No, but come _on, _he's a guy." Alice rolled her eyes.

"So what if he was?" Seth said defensively. "Look, this as a unique situation. But as a _normal_ guy, I can tell you that, 'Look, but don't touch', is a fact of life for us. Of course were going to look. If I see a fifteen year old with a set of D's and some nice hips...I'm gonna give her some thought. Not so much when I find out she's fifteen...but yeah, I'm gonna notice her. There is some shame involved too. It's just a fact of life with us _men_. He's not a pervert or anything. He saved that for book twenty. But, you know there's something else you need to think about here."

Book twenty had me a little afraid. Book twenty would be the year I delved into a lot of self-gratification. I couldn't help but smile at Seth, he was incredibly smart and honest, and still a little uncomfortable.

"What?"

Seth sighed. "This...gift. It would drive anyone insane. Even him. But this is how he coped. This is how he made it through without changing the future. He wrote it down. It's how he talked to you."

Alice and I just stared at Seth in silence for a moment.

He was right, of course. Seth, he was looking outside the lines I was incapable of looking into at the time. I really didn't know how to feel about that passage. It was kind of sweet in a way, and I was only just slightly put off by the fact that maybe Peter saw me naked my entire life. He saw me naked all the time in the present. But there was no doubt he was ashamed at that point in time. I also knew there had to be a lot more.

Alice couldn't let it go. "Go back to what you were talking about before. Peter's...old, Seth. Physically twenty seven. You're only eighteen. You don't think there's something wrong with a twenty something man coveting a fifteen year old?"

When I was fifteen, there wasn't anything special about me. There wasn't. I was still growing boobs, and I was too thin. There was no shape to me whatsoever. But Peter wasn't a pervert, at least, not a man who coveted a fifteen year old.

Seth looked at Alice indifferently. "No, I don't, given their situation. She matured before his eyes." Seth looked at me. "You might not have thought there wasn't anything special about you, but you were turning into a woman. What he thought was okay, Bella. You were starting to appeal to him, but touching you then wasn't an option for him. He's telling you that."

I knew Seth couldn't read my mind, but he sure knew me well.

"Is there more like that?"

Seth was just about to answer when the clock in the living room chimed. It was 1:30PM.

"Oh, shit." It was me. My heart jumped inside my chest. The pull was stronger than ever before. It felt like I was going to float again.

"We've still got time to read the letter. They just left Albuquerque, but Jasper's driving. Give it here."

"Yeah, but the worst of it is in book twenty. I didn't read them, though, as soon I realized what they were. And you should read the part about when your mother died." Seth groaned uncomfortably in the back of his throat.

Seth was lying. And his deflection made it that much more obvious. It only mildly put me off.

Alice had taken the last bag with the letter in my lap and opened it. She handed me back the letter to read, and the first thing I noticed was that I really couldn't. Between my eyes, the pain, and the fact that Peter wrote it in pencil – and had erased a hole right through the paper – it was next to near impossible.

He had been nervous when he wrote that one.

My brain was being squeezed again. I gave it back to her. "I still can't. Will you read it, please?"

"Yes, but do you want me to get you another pill first? You're due again," she said gently.

"No. I swallowed four Tylonol just a little bit ago. I'm fine, I just can't see that well. Go ahead. We need to hurry."

Seth reached for the last scrapbook. I closed my eyes and put my head back against the headboard.

"_**May 4, 2009**_

_**Well, baby, I'm writing you this letter because Garrett told me to. He said I could put the blame on him, but I'm afraid I'm the only one there is to blame. I'm not in a good place right now, and I'm really not sure what to do. Everyone around me is telling me not to tell you the truth, when that's all I want to do. But see, the thing is, I don't know whether or not I'll ever be able to do that.**_

_**My biggest fear is losing you. Like I told you before, the power you have over me should never be taken for granted. I wish I could tell you that I haven't taken you for granted, but I have, because I've lied to you. I've kept the truth from you. But I do value you, more than my own life. Please don't ever question that. And I'll respect you more if you don't leave me. I'm not sure what will happen if you do. So, here goes nothing.**_

_**The day Charlotte died you crashed into my life. There's not a day of your life that has gone by that I haven't bear witness to, except for now. I'm not sure when it changed, but I think I know. But because of Garrett, I have wonder now if it changed because I created it. I created a future because I became a part of yours. I don't think I did that, Bella. But either way, it's just a little bit upsetting. **_

_**I have to tell you the truth. I have to do it. Not seeing you or knowing what you're doing is just scary, because it's like you don't exist. But you're still in my heart. The only question is whether or not is if someone will try to take it away. **_

_**I can't be so sure that you won't leave me. You're both strong and weak, but sometimes I wish you weren't strong at all. Sometimes I wish you were the girl you were when you were seventeen. But then I have to wonder, would I love you as much if you weren't? Yes, of course. You're a part of me now. Right now though, it pisses me off because you knew something was wrong last night, but you didn't ask. You didn't push, and maybe if you would have, maybe I would have told you the truth. But you didn't ASK. **_

_**Is that you being weak, because you're afraid? Or is that you being strong, because the love you have for me is deep enough that the truth doesn't matter? For as long as I've known you, you would think I could figure it out. You will always shine simplicity, but your elegance just might be the death of me. **_

_**Laugh up there, babe. The power you have over me is just that prolific, and I don't have you figured out anymore. **_

_**Something happened to you at Marcy's, and I don't know what it was, but I have a feeling it would give me the opportunity that I'm looking for to tell you the truth. I have been a shadow of your life since the day you were born, you would think I could figure it out. But Bella, whether you believe it or not, you're strong enough to handle God. And no matter what happens, do know this...I'll resent you for leaving me, if you so choose. You should expect that. But I don't and I won't ever resent you for any other choice you've made or make in your life. You've experienced so much that it takes my breath away just thinking about any aspect of it, no matter how awful or beautiful it was at times. You abound with dignity and grace, you always have. For that you should always hold your head up high. You are the queen, and you rule me. Just don't ever send me to the fucking dungeon. **_

_**You're mad at me right now, and I'm sorry for that. Being a jerk is a specialty, but that's just because I can't bear to be away from you. I just...I just love you. **_

_**Our future was burned tonight because it's not the future we're living, but there was still a couple things in it I want to tell you. Making love to you is the best sexual experience of my fucking life; and for that I'm glad the book is gone, because I did not capture the blessing of it. I thought you should know that. And you should also know the reason why I call you Bunny. You haven't asked yet, but it's because your my Megan Fox. You got in the car, Bunny, when it mattered the most. Deb said to you the one thing that you've always done, but with me you had some pause. She has been an influential part of your life, and that's just one of the reasons why I bought her the car of her dreams. I'm sure I'll give you more, and they will all be the truth. I'll always hold her dear to my heart. I know you will, too. **_

_**I don't know what else to say, honey, other than you'll find more than you'll need to know inside this chest. If it's not so clear yet just what exactly this, then I'll refer you to Ralph Edwards...**_

_**ISABELLA MARIE SWAN...THIS IS YOUR LIFE! **_

_**Laugh up there, honey. Yeah...**_

_**It's not just bits in pieces of your life, it's bits and pieces of mine too. I could say I did this all for you, but I did it for me, too. Make no mistake, I am a better man than I used to be because of you. I am a better man because Charlotte gave me the best thing in the world. She gave me the power to see how you lived, and how you survived, even when you were growing up. You persevered and became the lady you are now because you're strong, and the will inside you can never be broken. You didn't have a lot of parental influence, Bella, and look at the person you are now. Your intelligent, alluring, sensible, ravishing, thoughtful, beautiful, and still, a bit of an enigma. That's why I fell in love with you. **_

_**The extra journal is for you. Do with it what you will. I had them made because the Swan is wonderful representation of your life, and it's also a representation of Charlotte's. And I know she chose you because no matter what you would believe, you would serve God the way he wanted everyone to serve him. You would love unequivocally, you would put others before yourself, and you will always do what you believe is right. And it's always been that way, baby. **_

_**Love me, Bella, no matter what. Forgive me for what I have done. I'll give you anything you could ever possibly want, but I cannot give you separation. I will never take you for granted ever again. Just don't leave me.**_

_**My heart, and my soul is yours. Keep it with you for always,**_

_**Peter"**_

It was strange how light the air felt after Alice had finished reading his letter, mainly because maybe it should have felt anything but. Alice couldn't cry tears and I had given all I had; and Seth's were traitorous, because he was a _man._ Who had such a good heart.

"I think I was meant to read that first."

"Jesus," Seth said thickly, lifting his shoulder to brush his face with his shirt. "Who's Marcy? And Ralph Edwards?"

I wiped the tears away. Alice and I both laughed.

"Ralph Edwards used to host this show called, 'This is your Life', back in the Fifty's. Or was it the Sixty's?"

"Fifty's." Alice mumbled.

"But Marcy was Peter's neighbor. She had terminal cancer. Peter killed her, and I was there and talked him into it. It's a long story, Seth."

Seth glowered at me somewhat, before he sighed. He didn't like my short-ended explanation, but he shook it off. He had been looking at the last scrapbook as Alice had read the letter.

"Look," he said quietly, and he turned the book around. "It's the plane. I get the HOP part now, Bunny. But you're prettier than Megan Fox."

I looked down at an 8x10 glossy picture of Peter smiling and standing inside a hangar with a jet behind him. A very sophisticated and expensive jet. But I could see what Seth wanted me to see. The swan on the tail, and her call sign as he pointed it out. HOP913. She looked like a beast.

It was all just so complicated, extensive, and surreal. Very surreal. How was I supposed to get past it? Why was the discovery of God and miracles that difficult to accept? I mean, I could sidle right up to a vampire. And I certainly knew that I wasn't go to go and become a God fearing woman, a nun, or anything. Celibacy and worship just wasn't for me.

There wasn't anger in me anymore, or a sense of betrayal. What I heard, and what I had seen already had been wondrous and shocking. And I had experienced emotion like I never had before. My heart and mind was filled with it. My belly was filled with swarms of bees and butterflies, yet I felt strangely in control for the first time in hours, when maybe I should have been losing it.

Peter had seen my whole life. And he laughed and cried, struggled and persevered, right along with me. Maybe some wouldn't see it that way, but it was a fact.

I couldn't get over it. But I was going to have to move _past_ it.

The scrapbook Seth had showed me the picture in was filled with other pictures of Peter's plane, and the Cessna he had before. It had his pilot's certificate in it, and some old, certifications he had needed for housing and building. I knew the reason he put that stuff in the chest was because he knew I would want to know what he was doing, and he had built a legacy to be proud of while I was growing up.

It had grown quiet. Nobody was reading or looking at anything anymore.

Seth sighed and cracked his back, Alice's head was down, and her eyes were closed.

"Should we clean up?" Seth asked, a little wearily.

I thought about it. "How much time, Alice?"

She shrugged. "About ten minutes."

God, would I be so cruel to leave it out and let him see it? Yes. Yes I would. He deserved _at least_ that. He feared this. He was going to face it, no matter what.

"Just leave it. Peter and I will put it away."

**%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%**

**AN:**

**So the plan has changed. I wasn't kidding when I said the last chapter was going to be heavy duty. There is a lot that needs to be closed out and not just with Peter and Bella. With what I've got already it's looking to be another significant chapter. Therefore, there will be a part II after a bit, and epilogue in the future. **


End file.
